


How They Cope

by Elsey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Grieving, M/M, disabled!cas, disabled!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-28 19:04:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3866296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsey/pseuds/Elsey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Winchester has never been able to hold down a job. When he uprooted for the umpteenth time, taking his kids to Sioux Falls, Sam and Dean had hoped that it would be the last of their moves. When a terrible crime occurs, the family is torn apart, and they must find their own ways of surviving the heartbreak they have faced in life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A bag of Cheerios for the road

“Now Sammy, I don’t want you wandering around and getting lost, so we’ll go out together.”

“Is dad coming?”

“No, dad’s working. But we’ll have lots of fun, okay?”

“Okay, Dean!”

When the fire burned their house down, John just… ran. Of course he took the kids with him, and of course he loves them, but things got… difficult. The drinking made it hard to hold down a job, and finding daycare for Sam was even harder, especially with how much it cost. So it lead to a lot of babysitting on Dean’s end.

Now, Dean is fourteen and Sam is ten. They just moved to Sioux Falls after living in some piss poor town in Wisconsin for all of three weeks. Some things never change, and John’s drinking is one of them.

All Dean wants is to stay put. He wants Sam to grow up in a house and not a car and he wants to go to school and make some actual friends. But he knows it won’t happen. Either way, Sam at least deserves to be able to go around this godforsaken town and know where the hell he is. Granted, Dean doesn’t know if very well either, but he can sure as shit try and figure it out while he’s here.

“Should be bring snacks?” Dean asks.

“How far are we going?” Sam replies, sitting down in the middle of the floor of their rented house and pulling on his sneakers. He insisted on shoelaces and not velcro when they bought them, so now he has to actually learn how to tie them himself.

“I don’t know yet, buddy.”

“Maybe we could bring some Cheerios, just in case we get hungry?”

“Yeah, sure,” Dean says, grabbing a baggy and heading to cabinet to dump some of his brother’s second favourite cereal in. Lucky Charms were too expensive this time around.

“Hey Dean?”

“Yeah, Sammy?” he says, stuffing the bag into his coat pocket.

“Can we live here forever?”

“I… I dunno, Sam, it’s hard to tell. I hope so, but I can’t make any promises. Okay?” His little brother sighs a sigh that is much too old for his years.

“Yeah, Dean, it’s fine. Can we go now?” Dean smiles in response, nodding his head, and Sam bounds to his feet, running and flinging the door open before sprinting out into the yard. Dean follows, locking the door and placing the key under the mat before he heads down the stairs after his brother. They cross the street and start heading towards the park they had passed the day before when driving into town.

“Are you excited to start school?” Dean asks as he takes his brother’s hand before crossing the weird mini highway that goes through the town.

“Well kinda, because at the last school she said that this grade we learn about stuff like ancient China and Egypt, even more than the small booklets in second grade. I really like the ancient stuff, it’s lots and lots of fun!” Dean nods along as Sam drones on, glad that he’s talking so that Dean doesn’t have to. It’s easier, he thinks, when Sam goes on than when he has to actually join in on a conversation, especially one as boring as ancient Egypt. Dean hates school enough as it is.

“So you wanna go in the woods or just hang out in this little park area?” Dean asks as they reach the end of the winding road.

“Hm. I like the park, but can we go in the woods and then play there?”

“Sure thing, buddy. C’mon.” Dean grabs Sam’s hand, pulling him towards the small map at the mouth of the trail that leads into the woods. He traces the trail with his finger, and Sam picks out which one is short enough that they’ll be home before their dad so Dean can start dinner without John going crazy over the fact that the table’s empty.

As they descend the hill that has the trail winding it’s way down into the forest, Sam is pointing out different kinds of plants and birds left, right, and centre. Dean is only half listening, looking around at the scenery himself instead of taking in everything Sam is saying. The kid just never shuts up.

At the end of the winding path is a small bridge, as well as another trail branching off along the creek. They cross the bridge, but according to the map it leads on a pretty long trail, so they just cross and loop back before going down the smaller trail. As they go, they stop to wet their feet in the pond and Sam climbs over a fallen tree to reach the other side of the creek, he and Dean walking alongside it, Dean on the trail that follows it and Sam on the other side of the creek.

When they reach the next fallen tree, Dean’s brother scurries back over, careful to avoid the slippery spots. They continue on through the woods until they come to a fence that says ‘No Trespassing’. Dean can see two young boys on the other side of the fence, one of them on a tire swing, laughing, and the other sitting on a small bridge reading with a dog beside him. Dean drags Sam away, telling him not to mess with private property in South Dakota unless he wants to get shot. Sam just rolls his eyes at that.

They follow the trail up another hill, coming out on yet another trail and following it to their right. Dean almost shits his pants when they end up behind some random houses and a group of dogs charges out at them, barking and snarling. Sam laughs when Dean runs past the house, waiting for his brother to catch up by a grove of trees. By the time they reach the end of the trail, they’re back by the park, in a small little parking lot just behind it.

“That was fun! We should come back sometime and catch minnows, maybe go say hi to those kids,” Sam suggests, and Dean just shrugs, keeping his eyes on the group of people surrounding a truck that’s parked in the parking lot, beer cans littering their feet. One of the men watches him, wetting his lips, and a shiver goes down Dean’s spine.

“Maybe we’ll come back again tomorrow when dad’s at work, we can stop by the dollar store for some jars and a butterfly net so we can catch those minnows,” Dean suggests. Sam’s face lights up and he starts running all around, hopping and jumping as he makes his way to the park. While there’s no actual play equipment, there’s an open field and some picnic tables, which seems to be enough for Sam.

I fucking hate South Dakota. is what Dean thinks when he hears the gunshots. His first instinct is to protect Sam, he always has to protect Sam. But he can’t… he can’t move. And the ground seems awful close. There’s a roar behind him and squealing tires, and then a shrill ringing in his ears. Son of a bitch does his chest hurt, and his back, and… and yelling… so much yelling… Sam?

SAM!

“SAM!”

“DEAN!”

But the ringing is just so fucking LOUD and the black is so inviting and the pain… the pain is so much, oh God, the PAIN…

The black comes and it’s calm and cool and easy, but Dean fights it, he fights it with all he has, because Sam is here and Sam can’t see his brother die like this, not shot in some country hick town in South Dakota.

In.

Choking gasp.

Out.

In.

Choking gasp.

Out.

“I’m alive.”

In.

Choking gasp.

Out.

“I’m alive.”

“I’m alive.”

“I’m alive.”

The black is too strong, and the world is gone.

***

He doesn’t open his eyes right away. As the black fades from his mind, he can hear beeping and dripping, and he knows that if he opens his eyes he’ll be blinded by the lights in the hospital. Of course he’s in the hospital. Not for long, of course, John can’t afford any of this and he always sneaks Dean out, treats him himself. Dean would sigh if he could, but everything… is buzzing in a painful and also… not… painful way. It’s all very confusing. Dean feels high but also grounded. There are a lot of sensations happening that he just doesn’t understand.

Okay. He’s in a hospital. What did John always say to do when you’re in the hospital?

Right arm. One arm. One hand. Five fingers.

Left arm. One arm. One hand. Five fingers.

Left leg. Left leg. Moving on.

Right leg. Right leg. Freaking out. Freaking out, freaking out, FREAKING OUT-

His eyes flash open and he struggles to move in the bed, his heart monitor is going off so loud, it’s all so loud and so bright and-

Who the fuck just stabs someone in the arm with the needle? Who the fuck does-

***

This time when the black recedes Dean can hear his father’s voice.

“I can’t afford all of this! There’s no way I can pay for this kind of care! He isn’t my responsibility anymore, he’s YOURS!”

“Sir, this is your son, you are his legal guardian-”

“Yeah, and in case you couldn’t tell, I have a second son right there, and he needs me too, but he can’t have me if I’m spending all my damn time looking after a cripple. I can’t afford the medical bills. I can’t afford a house. I can’t afford HIM and he’ll understand. I want to give him up to someone who can actually help him.”

“Sir-”

The door closes. Dean keeps his eyes shut. He hears someone crying.

“I’m sorry, Dean, we should’ve just stayed home, this is all my fault. All my fault!” Sam wails. Dean’s eyes crack open.

“Sammy,” he rasps. His brother’s head shoots up and so does his body, immediately turning to the door, mouth open. “No!” It’s barely a breath, but it’s something.

“Dean, are you okay, does it hurt, do you need a doctor?” all the words are rushing out at top speed, his words rushing together as he blubbers past his tears.

“M’fine, Sam. Sit.” Sam sits. He stares at Dean, eyes wide, flitting from his face to his feet. Dean grits his teeth, taking a deep breath. “What happened?”

And so Sam tells him. He tells him they were in the parking lot, and some guy in the truck had a gun, and he laughed and told his friends that this would be an easy target practice. He shot Dean twice, once in the lower back and once through the back of his chest. They drove off and Sam ran to one of the houses to call 911. The ambulance got there and took them to the hospital. Dean had had two surgeries and he had been sleeping for two days.

“How bad am I hurt?” he asks. Sam looks at the floor, and Dean knows. He just. He fucking knows.

“You can’t walk!” Sam blurts out, and starts sobbing in the chair. Before Dean can respond or comfort his little brother, John bursts through the door, glancing over at Dean before grabbing Sam’s arm and yanking him to his feet.

“Let’s go,” he says, gruffly.

“No!” Sam wails, fighting against John’s hold to try and get back to Dean. Dean wants to fight too, to reach out, to get him, but he can’t move. He’s so tired. He’s so done. And he can’t walk. He’s just… done. “Dean! DEAN!” he hears, and the door closes. The last words he said to his brother were ‘how bad am I hurt?’ and Dean doesn’t know if he’ll ever change that.

The door opens again, and a doctor walks in.

“He’s gone, right?” Dean rasps. The doctor opens her mouth, closes it, and then nods. Dean nods too. “Figures. He’s an ass.” She comes in and takes a seat next to Dean.

“How are you feeling?” she asks, pulling out her clipboard and writing things down as she looks him up and down.

“Fine. But I can’t move my legs.” She nods.

“We were afraid of that.” She stands, taking out a small prick. She flips the covers back, pulling the gown off his legs. He watches as she pricks his foot. “Can you feel that?” Dean shakes his head no. They continue up the leg until they reach two inches past his hip, which is when Dean feels the prick. It’s the same when they try with the other leg. She takes out a flashlight and checks his eyes. She helps him sit up and lean forwards before checking the wounds on his back. She lays him down and sits next to him. “Dean, when the first bullet entered your back, it severely damaged the nerves there, severing them from your legs. Unfortunately, our surgeries were unsuccessful, and you will be confined to a wheelchair for what looks to be the remainder of your life.” Dean takes a deep breath and nods.

“Okay,” he says.

“Your father has relinquished all parental rights from you, and you are now a ward of the state. Earlier this morning, there was a man named Chuck Shurley here. Mr. Shurley and his partner Sonny run a home for disabled children just outside of the city, and when he heard about your situation, he asked me to speak with you about him asking for you to come live with him. You have a long road to recovery, which involves copious amounts of physical therapy. We’ll be keeping you in hospital for a while yet, Dean, but after that, the state will choose a foster home. Mr. Shurley runs a lovely home and will be able to provide you with all that you need. Would you like for me to call him and ask him to speak with you?” the doctor finishes.

To be brutally honest, Dean’s been poking his leg this entire time, waiting to feel it, but it never comes. Half of what she says goes in one ear and out the other, he just nods in response, and she nods back, standing. She says a few more words and checks his IV bag before she leaves.

Dean can’t walk.

Dean is paralyzed.

He takes a deep breath. And another. And another. And soon he’s crying, hysterical sobs ripping from his chest, and he’s angry and he’s horrified and no one wants him, not even his own father, and oh God, Sam’s gone, and he’s all alone and now he’s a cripple- the tears won’t stop, the tears won’t stop and Dean can’t breathe and he was shot and-

The nurse comes in and injects something into his IV bag, gently running her hand through his hair until, after more endless crying and whimpering, Dean’s mind slipped back into that blissful, black that he’s growing ever so used to.


	2. A house in the country

If there’s anything that Dean has learned in the past six months that he’s been in the hospital, it’s that he hates the hospital more than he expected he would. What he would give for John to come back and sneak him out. What he would give to be able to stand, to wrap his arm around John’s neck and hobble out of the hospital with his cast on his leg. What he would give to be eight years old again. But Dean isn’t. That isn’t the reality, and the reality is shittier than he expected it would be.

Chuck Shurley comes in to talk to him the weekend after the accident, going on and on about the farm that he and Sonny run, the children that live there, the physical therapy they offer- Dean wants to know the catch, but there doesn’t seem to be one. It seems as if Chuck is just a genuinely nice guy, and that makes Dean more nervous than anything else.

So, after four months of not just healing and surgeries, but physical therapy and learning how to actually be a cripple, which takes Dean longer than he anticipated, he ends up outside of the hospital in his wheelchair, borrowed clothes on his back, a big black van looming in front of him.

Chuck hops out and Dean doesn’t know what to expect. When Chuck opens the door back door, there’s another kid inside, strapped tightly into a chair with a wheelchair folded up next to them. Dean frowns and the kid waves. He looks way too happy and excited for this. Dean doesn’t think he’s ready.

“So, Dean,” Chuck says to him, “are you ready for your new life?” Dean squints at Chuck, unsure of what to make of that sentence. Is the guy a mind reader, or?

“Listen, man- what’s the catch?”

“Beg pardon?” Chuck asks, smile not not moving, his head tipping to the side a little.

“Why are you doing this for me? I don’t have any money. Legally, I don’t even have any parents. What’s in it for you?” Chuck’s smile remains on his face, but it’s sadder, and Dean feels like he’s about to know something he really doesn’t want to know.

“When I was your age, just a few months younger, I got into a really bad car crash.” Chuck is bending down and grabbing at the hem of his pant leg, moving it upwards. Dean sees the metal underneath. “My mom, dad, and grandma all died. I had nowhere to go. I grew up in the system, and it was really bad. All I had was my imagination. And so I dreamed of a place where I could go, where I could be me. When I turned eighteen I didn’t have enough money to go to College, so I worked my ass off at three jobs. And then I started writing. Turns out I was okay at it.”

“Chuck, I’m sick of this story!” the kid shouts. Chuck turns to him and rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, Gabriel, I get it- just let me tell it one more time.” The apparent Gabriel huffs a sigh, gesturing to go on, and Chuck does.

“I started writing. I got published. I got a lot more money than I ever expected, and then I got a TV series. You ever heard of Unnatural?” Dean’s eyes widen.

“YOU wrote Unnatural?” Chuck grins.

“That I did. Carver Edlund. Don’t like the media, though. Anyway, I wrote that, got some big bucks. I met a great guy, got a great husband out of it. And then I did what I always wanted. I helped kids like me. That’s what I get out of this, Dean. I get to look at kids who could have ended up like I did, lost in the system, but know that they aren’t, that they’re in good hands.” Chuck seems so incredibly sincere and Dea genuinely wants to believe him, but he’s still hesitant, not wanting to push his luck.

“I guess I could give this a shot,” Dean mumbles. Chuck grins, and sticks his hand out. Dean reluctantly shakes it. Chuck gets behind him and grabs the handles of his chair, but Dean puts the brakes on. “I’ve- I’ve got it.” Chuck lets go, nodding in understanding. It takes a little more effort than Dean wanted it to, but he manages to get up the small ramp and into the car. Chuck comes in after him, helping him out of the chair and into the seat that they have to get Dean into, before he folds up the chair and places it beside Gabriel’s.

“Okay! I’ll be up front. Don’t hesitate to need me, got it?” Dean nods his understanding. Chuck gets out, pulls the ramp up, closes the door, and gets in the front. The kid in the seat just ahead of Dean’s turns his neck to look at him.

“So you’re the fresh meat,” he comments. Dean scowls.

“I’m not fresh meat,” he mutters. Gabriel laughs.

“Spoken like a true newbie! Name’s Gabriel- call me Gabe, though. Or your master, either one works.”

“Dean,” he says cautiously.

“Yeah, I know. Everyone’s been talking about you for months, dude.”

“Everyone?” Dean questions, frowning.

“Yeah, everyone at the home. We’ve all been waiting to meet you. I’m the most hyper, so I always get sent out. Plus, my injury matches yours, so they like to get someone who can relate to talk them into staying. Right, Chuck?”

“Gabriel is, for one of the first time’s I’ve known him, right, Dean. You and he have similar injuries, sometimes it can be easier to-”

“Bitch about it,” Gabriel interrupts, and Chuck remains focused on the road.

“How many other kids are there?” Dean asks.

“Not a whole lot,” Gabriel answers, “there’s me, I’m paralyzed too, can’t think of the exact name, but basically just under my ribcage and below is out, and hands go in and out too sometimes. Sitting’s a bitch sometimes, I’m just glad I don’t need an oxygen thing. Anyway, besides me there’ Charlie, double leg amputation, then there’s Jo, she was born without being able to hear or speak, she's profoundly deaf and non-verbal, and then she got in accident, lost an arm and a leg, then Kevin, he’s blind, and there’s my brother, Cassie. He’s real quiet.”

“Cassie?” Weird name.

“Yeah, real quiet.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Dean asks, and Gabriel frowns.

“Well, there’s nothing really wrong with any of us, is there Dean-o? Like, we’ve got problems, but does that make us wrong? Being disabled?”

“We’re all cripples,” Dean comments, and Gabriel flinches.

“Don’t. Say that word. Okay?” Dean frowns.

“But it’s true!”

“It’s- complicated. You could get punched for saying something like that, though. Well, not really, but hated for sure. Keep those thoughts to yourself.” Dean isn’t sure what he’s said wrong, but he nods. He uses his arms to shift himself in the seat, trying to see Gabriel better- he’s doing an awful lot of neck twisting.

“Sure, man. I’m sorry, I never knew not to say that, y’know?”

“Yeah, I get it. Anyway, we should be there soon. Hey, you ever ride horses?” Gabriel asks, completely shifting away the conversation topic. Dean shrugs.

“Once, I think, at a zoo when I was like three.”

“Well Chuck and Sonny, that’s Chuck’s husband, they have this big barn and they have three specially trained horses to respond to hand signals from the reins, and they have these saddles that we can go in. You ever see Game of Thrones? It’s like that one kid’s saddle, the Bran flakes guy.”

Gabriel goes on and on the whole way there. Dean isn’t sure whether he’s mad or grateful about it. All he knows is that he can’t stand just sitting there, he wants to at least get in his chair and do something rather than sit in this car like he’s sat in that hospital for half a year. Hell, his birthday is coming up, and all he wants to do is get out and go. He knows he can’t, though. It’s the middle of winter and his wheels aren’t exactly fit for the snow. The second it melts, though, Dean knows he’ll be off.

Soon enough, they’re in the country, and soon after that they’re driving past an old car lot, then past some fenced fields with a couple of horses, and finally, turning up the long driveway to a huge old house with a barn next to it. There’s a man leaving the front door of the house and waving, Chuck beeping the horn back at him. Dean somehow tunes back into Gabriel’s chatter.

“That’s Sonny, Chuck’s husband. He promised he’d have hot chocolate when we got back, I really hope that’s true, he makes the best hot chocolate ever.” Soon the van is parked and Chuck has removed the ramp. Sonny walks over and sticks his head in the van.

“Dean, nice to meet you,” he says, keeping eye contact the entire time. He sticks his hand in and Dean shakes it. Sonny has a smile on his face too, but it’s easy, relaxed; he’s not looking at Dean like Chuck is. Chuck smiles like he desperately wants to make sure Dean wants to live with them, like he loves Dean so much already, but Sonny is looking at him as if… as if Dean’s a real person. A stranger, but a stranger that he wants to get to know. Sonny nods his head towards the house. “Hot chocolate inside. We got burgers for dinner and pie for after. Made the pie this afternoon, house actually smells decent for once. That sound good to you, the pie and burgers?”

Yeah, Dean definitely likes Sonny.

He hates getting out of that godforsaken van, though. The only reason Dean would never leave this place would be to not have to ride in that thing again. He feels totally helpless as Sonny and Chuck maneuver him from his seat, into his chair, and out. It’s even more complicated with Gabriel, as he has already told Dean that today is a ‘bad hand day’, and his fingers just don’t want to work. He seems to be trying for put on a brave face for Dean, but Dean can see how much this hurts him, to have to have so much help to get out of a car.

Soon enough, they’re rolling and walking to the house. Well, Dean’s rolling, Gabriel’s being pushed by Chuck, but that doesn’t stop him from going on endlessly about the house. Sonny moves ahead, opening the front door and letting Dean wheel in. He isn’t sure what he expected- a ‘WELCOME HOME!’ banner, everyone at the door, he’s not sure what- but this is exactly what he wanted. There’s no one in the front hall. It’s empty. They’re giving him space, which is exactly what he needs.

“Why don’t you take a while to look around? If you need to get upstairs, just call, and I’ll teach you how to use the lift. We’ll be around. Feel free to say hi to everyone,” Sonny says, nodding at Gabriel. Chuck is nodding, but he looks worried, glancing from Sonny to Dean and back. He’s helping Gabriel get his shoes and coat off- Sonny leaves the room with a wave, and Dean realizes that he trusts him to get his own shit off. Dean bites back a grin. undoing his jacket and sliding it off, putting it on his lap and wheeling forwards to place it on a lower hook before reaching down and taking his shoes off, placing his feet back onto the wheelchair after the shoes are on the ground.

Gabriel doesn’t offer him his company, and Dean leaves him and Chuck in the foyer, going straight ahead down a hallway, and then to the left. Excited at the amount of room he has, Dean propels himself forwards. He grins as he goes, feeling excited and happy and letting all the worry leave his body as he goes. The hallway seems to be one long one that eventually veers off into a small sitting room with a fireplace. The windows are huge, showing the beautiful land that Chuck and Sonny- and now Dean, he supposes, live on. The room feels… calm. It might be the green walls, it might be the faint smell of smoke that clings to the walls, Dean isn’t sure. Maybe it’s the snow lightly falling outside and the horses walking through the meadows. He just likes it. There were no other doors along the way and Dean briefly wonders why before he shrugs and heads back down the hallway, slightly reluctantly, choosing to follow it the other way rather than going back the way he came.

As he goes back down the hallway, Dean notices many more places to go into in this one. He sees another living room, this one with a TV and all kinds of electronics in it, and sitting dead in the centre is a girl with bright orange hair, a blond her sitting next to her, the redhead seeming to be really into whatever game she’s playing. Dean quietly  moves on, rolling along until he finds the next room, which is filled floor to ceiling with books. Dean enters and scans those that he can see, shocked at the amount of comics on the lower shelves. Just a bit higher are more children’s books. He moves across the room in a slow circles, stopping when he finds Game of Thrones, Gabriel had mentioned that, flipping it open and wondering what it’s about. He quickly closes it when he hears footsteps, but drops it when he tries to place it on the shelf. Bending himself as much as he can, Dean tries to pick it up.

“Oh,” says a deep, southern voice from behind him. “You must be Dean. Here, let me get that.” He hears the footsteps approach, and a smiling (God, fucking stop smiling), bearded man reaches past him and grabs the book. He looks it over and nods approvingly. “Good book. You might not like it though, awful gory.” Dean’s eyes light up.

“Gore? Love me some gore,” he says, reaching for the books. The man just chuckles, giving it back to him. “But wait. It’s not mine.” Dean reaches forwards again, to put the book back, and the man stops him.

“Whoa there, brother. These books are for everyone, I assure you. You take as many as you like, and you just ask if you want one from the top shelf. Got it?” Dean nods hesitantly. “I’m Benny, by the way. Sonny’s brother. Well, half-brother. But close enough. See you around, Dean.” Benny nods his head before leaving the room. Dean runs his fingers over the worn cover of the Game of Thrones book. He puts it on his lap and leaves from the library to go and find Sonny- he needs a place to put this book, after all, and he has no clue where his room is.

When he gets back to the foyer, it’s empty. He can hear the blond and redhead girl in the room he just rolled past, and he decides to head into the room opposite of that. When he gets in, he discovers a huge dining room. Moving past the table and chairs, he enters into a sizeable kitchen. Sonny’s at the stove, cooking something or other, Gabriel sitting at a small table with an Asian boy, sunglasses on his face and a dog beside him.

“Sonny?” Dean calls out. Sonny turns, frying pan in hand, and grins.

“Dean!” he calls out, nodding towards the stove. Dean moves forwards.

“I found this in the library, and your brother said I could read it,” Dean says, holding up the book. Sonny nods.

“He told no lies. You’re welcome to whatever you please in this house. Well, except for Linda, Kevin’s dog. He’s adamant that she’s his.

“Because she is mine!” the Asian boy’s rings out, shrill and squeaky.

“Just a joke, Kev, I promise, buddy,” Sonny assures and Kevin huffs. Dean cracks a small smile. “What can I do you for, bud?”

“I was just wondering if I had a room, where I could maybe put this, until I’m done,” Dean says, raising the book again.

“Oh, sure! I can just get Chuck-”

“No!” Dean says before he can stop himself. He slams his mouth shut, horrified at himself. Sonny, rather than getting angry, nods understandingly.

“That’s just fine. How about Benny? He can help you up the stairs.” Dean nods tentatively. “Benny!” Sony practically screams. Dean would jump if he could.

“I was all of twenty steps away, brother! God damn, control that mouth on ya!”

“Oh calm down.”

“What am I needed for, your majesty?” Benny asks, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Dean here needs to learn how to operate the stairs.”

“Ah, that old trick. Come on with me, Dean, I’ll show ya how they work.” Benny walks away, gesturing for Dean to follow. He does. He’s slightly in shock, at the sight he just saw- a functioning family. They all seem to be a functioning family, and Dean doesn’t understand how. As they approach the stairs, Dean is only half listening as Benny explains how to use the lift, pulling himself in, and then folding up his wheelchair, attaching it to a small holder on the side of the chair, and then the controls to go up and down the stairs. He helps Dean this time, and Dean insists that he can get himself out at the top. He does. With that, Benny shows Dean where his room will be.

When Benny opens the door, Dean can barely believe his eyes. The room is huge, with a bed on the far wall, a desk with access for his wheelchair, a closet, and a low dresser with a mirror. Dean’s mouth is hanging open as he takes it all in.

“THIS is my room?” he asks, awestruck.

“You bet, kiddo. You have some clothes in the dresser, but I’m sure we can take you out shopping for somethin’ you’d like better a little later on, if you want.” Dean nods apprehensively. “I’ll leave you be. Holler if you need anything.” Dean nods once more, scanning his… his new room. He carefully places the book on the desk. He wheels around, opening the drawers and feeling the bed, opening the closet and peering in, wheeling right up to the desk. He feels… afraid. He feels like none of this will last and he doesn’t know why he should enjoy something he’s clearly going to lose. His chest squeezes tight, and Dean hurriedly moves out from the desk and to the door, struggling to open it before shooting out in the hallway much too fast.

He collides with someone as he goes, and is met with bright blue eyes and tousled brown hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not disabled. I have never been in a foster home. I do not live in America. Please, if you have experienced any of these things, let me know in the comments what I'm doing right, wrong, and what I can improve on. If I've written something that is genuinely offensive, please know that I'm not aware that I've done so, and that I would be eternally grateful if you could bring it to my attention.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	3. Brandon Stark of Winterfell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit I am so, SO sorry. This summer has been absolutely insane. I've been juggling three jobs and trying to research this fic as well as doing gishwhes and going to camp and rewriting and rewriting... good Lord, I'm sorry this has taken so long. I really hope that you guys enjoy this chapter, and please correct me on anything that isn't accurate that I've written!

Blinking slowly, Dean realizes that he’s on the floor, wheelchair toppled over with the blue eyed boy sprawled across him.

“Fuck,” he curses, struggling to pull his arm out from under him. The boy snaps his head up, eyes widening and looking around him as he takes in his surroundings. Before Dean can get another word out, the boy has scrambled to his feet. He opens his mouth, closes it, and squeezes his eyes shut, bringing his hands to cover his hears and lowering his head. “Little help, dude?” But the kid only jerks his head up, shaking, and retreats down the hall, leaving a pile of books on the floor under Dean. “Fuck, fuck.” Dean fumbles with the clasps on his chair that are over his lap and legs, keeping him seated, and falls onto his side.

He struggles to move himself onto his back, pulling his legs over with him before he manages to drag himself up against the wall across from his door. His arms are shaking as he struggles to hold himself in a sitting position. He eyes the wheelchair lying on it’s side. Biting his lip, Dean reaches one arm forwards to grab it, falling onto his side. He bites back a shout of anger and shoves himself up again. Bracing himself, Dean reaches forwards again, and again falls. Screaming low in his throat, he pounds his fist into leg.

“Stupid, stupid, fucking- useless, and stupid and weak and STUPID,” he mutters to himself, teeth gnawing on his lip. He raises his hand and angrily wipes at his eyes, even when the tears have stopped, rubbing them red. He sniffs, his chest tight. He licks his lips and looks at the chair again. Closing his eyes and turning his head, Dean swallows at the lump in his throat. “Fuck,” he breathes. “Sonny!” he calls, hoping the man can hear him, but also hoping he can’t. “Sonny!” he calls again, his voice cracking. He wipes at his eyes again, hands moving to his legs and grasping at the cloth there before moving back to the floor to hold himself steady. “SONNY!”

“I’m coming, Dean! Where are you?” He hears footsteps on the stairs.

“I’m here,” he says, biting at his lip again. Sonny gets to the top of the stairs and turns, seeing Dean on the floor.

“Shit,” he mutters, hurrying forwards. He rights the chair and kneels down beside Dean. “Dean? Are you okay, buddy? What happened?” Sonny doesn’t touch him, his hands hovering beside the boy, ready to catch him if he falls. Dean glances past Sonny and sees Chuck on the stairs as well as the red-headed girl.

“I came out of my room,” he mumbled, keeping his head low, chin tucked against his chest. “I wasn’t looking, I ran into a kid.”

“Castiel?” Sonny asked, raising his head and looking around.

“I- I don’t know, he had brown hair…”

“Did he say anything?” Sonny asked, sounding oddly hopeful.

“No, he ran away. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to hit him, I wasn’t looking and I couldn’t get back in my chair-”

“Dean, there’s no need to apologize. It happens to the best of us. Can I help you back into your chair?” Sonny asks, gesturing behind himself. Dean swallows harshly, hands balled into shaking fists at his side. He takes a deep breath.

“Yeah, I guess, you could, if you wanted to, I mean,” Dean mumbles into his shirt.

“Okay. Chuck?”

“No!” Dean says, snapping his head up. Chuck, who had a foot on the floor, takes it back, a hurt look on his face.

“I’ll do it by myself, then, but it might hurt your back. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Dean grinds out, teeth mashed together as he fights the tears behind his lids. He hadn’t realized the pounding in his spine until he mentioned his back. Dean licks his lips and nods. Sonny gently places on arm under Dean’s knees and uses the other to his shoulder blades, gently easing him forwards and scooping Dean into his arms. The pain isn’t very strong at all, more of a dull ache than anything. Dean supposes that it’s low enough in his back that it can’t be full force. The doctors said it healed well, but there might be discomfort. Dean still isn’t completely sure of the effects of his injury, although the hospital had everything down pat, Dean still isn’t completely sure how to live his life and he doesn’t always remember what affects what in his body. It’s all very confusing, even to him. All of this ran through his head as Sonny lifted him from the ground. In a matter of seconds, Sonny lifted him into the chair, quickly strapping him back in.

“Back on your feet, good as new,” Sonny says, giving Dean one of his warm smiles. Dean flicks his eyes up and then back down, giving Sonny a stiff nod. Sonny claps Dean on the shoulder. “Do you need help back down the stairs?”

“No,” Dean says quickly before adding, “I think I’d just like to read awhile.”

“Alright. You can get up on the bed by yourself?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Shout if you need anything, got it?” Sonny says.

“Yeah, sure,” Dean grumbles. He wheels back into his room, leaving Sonny and the others in the hallway. He sees Sonny quickly walk by his door, the name Castiel being shouted down the hallway as Dean closes his bedroom door. His hands are shaking as he goes to his desk, grabbing his borrowed book off of his borrowed desk and wheeling over to his borrowed bed. Dean tosses the book on the bed and manages to haul himself onto the bed, arms shaking when he finally collapses on top of the covers. He pulls his useless legs closer to the middle and adjusts the pillow behind him before he drags himself against it, opening the book.

And so he reads.

Dean doesn’t know how long he reads, enthralled in the world of Westeros and the Free Cities, as Daenerys travels to her horse lord and Ned Stark beheads a Direwolf. But mostly, he reads about a young boy who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. A young boy who was hurt for no good reason, thrown out of a window by those who had no right, his life ruined over a secret that two siblings were determined to keep. And when Bran wakes without the use of his legs, Dean throws the book against the wall, his hands covering his eyes as he cries, wondering why the gods would be so cruel to ruin that boy’s life, to be so cruel as to take away the one thing the boy loved the most.

He stays like that for a long while, until he hears a knock on his door. He doesn’t say anything. He wants to yell ‘Go away!’ but he can’t, because this isn’t really his room, isn’t really his house. So he sits in silence. The knock comes again, and the door opens. When Dean slides his eyes to the side he sees the red-headed girl in the doorway.

“Hello? Dean, right? Hey, I’m Charlie! Computer whiz and also really awesome. Sorry, I talk a lot, especially when I’m nervous. Anyway, can I come in?” Dean shrugs and she strides in. She walks with ease and Dean watches carefully, yet he can see no signs of the prosthetic legs that she walks on. “It’s okay to stare, I know some people don’t know what to think about it. I got the hang of walking around on these bad boys pretty quick, though.” Dean hurriedly averts his eyes. Charlie walks right up to his bed, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “You don’t have to talk, that’s alright.” Her eyes shift to the floor and she sees the Game of Thrones book. “Oh, dude, I love this book!” She stands and bends to pick it up, bringing it back to the bed. “Who’s your favourite? Ned Stark, right? Ned Stark is everyone’s favourite, I love the guy! Strangely enough, after all the books, Jaime’s my favourite. You might know why later on, I just connect with him, y’know?”

“I like Bran,” Dean mumbles, still keeping his eyes off of the girl. She gives him an understanding smile.

“I thought you might. He’s pretty great, right? Riding around on Dancer, and Summer, ugh, I love that wolf, he’s so protective! Have the Reeds shown up yet? They teach him so much! Oh, wait, never mind, that’s the second book. I speed read a lot when I like a series, they all start blending together eventually, y’know? Clearly you like to read too, you’ve really blazed through this bad boy!”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I’ve been going on and on, sorry, I tend to do that. Interrupt me whenever, seriously. Anyway, Benny sent me up to come get you for dinner, we’re having burgers and pie. Sonny thought you might like that, so he made it just for you. You want me to come downstairs with you?” Charlie asks, a cheery grin on her face. Dean realizes that her question traps him into coming downstairs no matter what he answers. He likes this girl.

“Yeah, sure. Let me just…” he trails off, and she nods happily.

“Sure thing! Here, I’ll put your book on the shelf, I can find something to make a bookmark out of in the drawer, I’m sure.” Dean nods and she grabs it before walking over to the desk and rummaging through the drawers. Dean heaves himself off the bed and into his chair, taking the brakes off and wheeling over to Charlie. “Onwards and forwards!” she exclaims, raising an arm in the air and marching to the door, opening it and ushering Dean through. She chatters all the way down the hall until they reach the stairs, where Dean somehow forces himself to get in the stair lift. He’s exhausted. When they reach the bottom he nearly falls, but pulls himself up at the last moment.

“The kitchen is this way, right?” he asks her quietly.

“Actually, we’re eating in the dining room, but it’s just outside the kitchen, so we’re going in the right direction!” she says as they make their way towards where Dean had visited Sonny earlier in the day. When they reach the room, Chuck raises his head and nods at Dean. He’s sitting next to Kevin, helping the boy to put condiments on his burger. Benny is next to Gabriel, cutting up bits of the burger and feeding it to him, while Sonny isn’t at the table at all. Charlie leads Dean to his spot and sits down beside him, right in between Dean and the blonde girl.

“Dean, good to see you,” Benny says.

“Heya Dean-o,” Gabriel says around a mouthful of burger. The blonde girl raises one of her hands and makes a few motions with it.

“Jo says hi and welcome,” Charlie tells him. Dean waves back at her and she smiles brightly.

“Tell Dean not to feed Linda anything,” he hears Kevin say.

“Tell him yourself, Kev,” Gabriel shoots back.

“Fine! Where are you, Dean?” Kevin asks in his high pitched voice.

“Here,” Dean says, and Kevin’s head snaps towards him.

“Don’t feed Linda anything, she’ll get fat and have to retire and I really like her.”

“You got it,” Dean tells him, and the boy nods dutifully before reaching forwards and carefully taking the hamburger off the plate and raising it to his lips. “Where’s Sonny?” Dean asks.

“He’s upstairs with Castiel,” Chuck tells him.

“The kid I- the kid I saw today?” Dean asks, a blush coming to his cheeks as he remembers having to call Sonny for help. Dean hates asking anyone for help. Especially strangers.

“Yes, Castiel is Gabriel’s brother,” Chuck informs him.

“Cassie has some problems, Sonny’s just helping him out with them,” Gabriel tells Dean.

“Okay,” Dean mumbles, reaching forwards to get the condiments. The rest of dinner is filled with Benny and Gabriel talking back and forth, Jo and Charlie signing, and Kevin chattering away with Dean. Well, Kevin talking with Dean listening and nodding his head before Charlie elbows him and Dean responds verbally.

By the end of dinner, Kevin’s head is drooping. Chuck leads the boy from the dining room and up to his bedroom. The rest of them enjoy their pie before Gabriel asks Sonny if he can walk TV, and Benny wheels him out of the room. Charlie asks Dean if he wants to come play video games with her and Jo, but Dean says he wants to read. Charlie and Jo stand and leave the room together, Dean alone in the dining room surrounded by plates. He wheels himself back from the table and goes around the table, taking plate after plate and carefully piling them on his lap. He goes to the kitchen and puts them in the lowest sink, then goes back and gets more, slowly clearing the table until it’s spotless.

He goes to the kitchen for the last time and begins to wash them. It takes him longer than he would like it to, but eventually the dishes are all piled up and drying. When he finishes, he turns to find Sonny in the doorway.

“Hey Dean, what’re you up to?” Sonny asks, eying the dishes.

“They were dirty, so I just… it was my job, in my house. Look after- to look after the chores and stuff,” Dean says, eyes downcast. He doesn’t want to be reminded of earlier in the day.

“Well thank you very much for doing them, Dean, I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I came down to get some dinner for Castiel. I was gonna make him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, do you think you could cut me a piece of pie to bring to him?” Sonny asks, crossing the large kitchen and grabbing a loaf of bread. Dean nods and goes back out to the dining room, carefully lifting the pie tin with pie left in it onto his lap and rolling into the kitchen, where he finds that Sonny has left a plate, fork, knife, and pie spatula (Dean never knew what to call that thing) on one of the lower counters. Dean puts the tin next to them and cuts a piece out before lifting it onto the plate. He puts the fork next to the piece and looks up to find Sonny taking the plate and putting it on a tray next to a sandwich and a glass of milk. “Thanks, Dean, it looks great! Wanna help me bring it to him?”

“I- I guess,” Dean says, biting at his lips. Sonny smiles and gestures for Dean to go ahead. He moves past the dining room and back to the stairs where he sits himself in the godforsaken stair lift again before riding to the top. Sonny’s just behind him, and when Dean’s in his chair again the two of them head down the hall.

“Castiel?” Sonny asks, knocking on the door. “Can we come in?”

Dean isn’t sure what to expect in the door opens. He doesn’t know why his stomach is in knots, it’s not like he hurt the kid or anything. Maybe he’s just nervous about seeing those blue eyes and that brown hair again.


	4. One knock two knock, red knock blue knock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit. If any of you read Everything Stitched Together, you know about my computer. For those of you who don't, I was without my laptop for about three weeks, the thing was completely wiped and I lost everything. I had no way of writing this chapter, and then as soon as I got it back, school started and I was slammed. Finally, a free day! Huzzah! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

The boy isn’t what Dean was expecting him to be. He was expecting a shy kid, maybe a small smile on his face, greeting them quietly- anything to acknowledge that they had entered the room. What he gets in the kid’s not even looking at them. He’s balled himself up, sitting back on the bed and shoved into the corner of the wall, knees up against his chest with his buried in them and his arms wrapped tight around them.  

Dean doesn’t know what to do.

“Hey Castiel, it’s Sonny. I brought Dean with me, you met him earlier today. We brought your favourite, peanut butter and jelly. Dean also brought you a slice of pie, just in case you were still hungry after your sandwich. I’m going to put them on the bedside table. Can you lift your head to tell me that you heard me?” Sonny asks, voice soft and gentle as he carefully moves across the room, gesturing for Dean to follow with the pie- for some reason Sonny kept that as Dean’s job. Dean, Protector of the Pie. Castiel doesn’t raise his head, but he moves his shoulders, which seems to be more than enough for Sonny. If possible, the boy tenses even more when he hears the plate being set on the side table. Dean watches him with careful eyes as he set his own plate down. Sonny gestures from Dean to Castiel, and Dean catches on.

“Uh, hi, Cast- Castel- uh, Cas. I- sorry about earlier, I wasn’t, uh, looking.” The arms wrap tighter around the knees. “Just wanted to, y’know, apologize. For earlier. Well, I’ll uh, head out now. Come say hi if you want.” Dean backed his chair away from the bed and turned towards the door. Sonny gives him an approving nod as Dean makes his way out of the room. He can hear Sonny saying a few more words, but doesn’t stop to listen as he hurries down the hall, going into his own room and closing the door.

It’s been a very long day.

……….

In the four days that Dean’s been living at Sonny and Chuck’s house, he’s learned more than he ever thought he would. He finished the entirety of the first Game of Thrones book. He learned that yes, it does hurt when a prosthetic arm is thrown at you after you beat someone in Mario Kart. He’s slowly learning to ask for help. Help when he gets dressed, uses the washroom, takes a bath- he needs so much help, and he hates it, hates it more than anything. He doesn’t have much control over his bladder anymore, and he hates that, too. He hates the catheter and he hates that no one ever taught him how to change it. But he’s learning nonetheless. He’s learning how to dress himself, to use the washroom, to take a bath, to change the catheter- in five days in this foster home, he’s finally feeling normal.

And he’s terrified because of it.

He… he likes this. He likes the feeling of security, of family- something he never really had with John. He’s being a kid. And he’s terrified it will all be ripped away.

Dean doesn’t go to school yet, and neither do Kevin or Castiel. Kevin hasn’t learned how to read braille yet and past attempts to send him have ended badly. Castiel… well, Dean knows why Castiel doesn’t go- he only leaves his room in the middle of the night to use the washroom and get new books.

On the third night, Dean had stayed up and waited with his door cracked. Around midnight, when Dean was so tired he was thinking of passing out in his chair, he heard the telltale click of a lock, Castiel poking his head out from his door and carefully closing it, making his way tentatively down the hallway until he reached the bathroom, going in and closing the door. When he came out, he had run down the stairs and come back with an armful of books.

This had only confused Dean more, made him more curious. Every day, he knocked on Castiel’s door, knowing he wouldn’t get a response. Every day for the last four days, he had said through the door:

“Hi, Cas, it’s Dean. I’m going downstairs, do you want to join me?” And when the silence greeted him, he would continue: “Well it’s okay if you aren’t ready yet, but whenever you are there’s a space next to me on the couch. Bye for today, Cas. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He always said it after the bus left with Charlie, Jo, and Gabriel. And he always went downstairs, waiting for Castiel, but he never came.

On the fourth day, after the bus leaves, Dean makes his way from the railing, where he waved off the other foster kids, and goes down to Castiel’s room. And so he says:

“Hi, Cas, it’s Dean. I’m going downstairs, do you want to join me?” And when the silence is there once more, Dean opens his mouth to talk to him and tell him there’s always a spot, but he stops himself. “If you don’t want to come downstairs, can you knock once?”

Silence.

“Okay, if you might come down later, can I get two knocks?”

Silence.

“If you want to come down can you give me three knocks?”

Silence.

Dean sighs, frustrated- why is this kid so stubborn?

“Alright, well, if you want to come downstairs but you can’t and you want me to keep doing this until you can, can you give me four knocks?”

Silence.

“Come on, man, I’m trying here.”

Dean’s heart nearly stops when there’s a soft knock, barely heard, obviously made from across the room. And then another. Another, and one more. Dean grins to himself.

“I won’t give up, Cas, I promise. There’s always a spot next to me down there. And Kevin, of course. I’ll try again tomorrow.” He’s greeted by more silence, but for some reason, it feels less tense than before. Dean rolls himself down the hall happily. He thinks he should tell Sonny about the knocks, but at the same time, he wants to keep this between himself and Cas. He wants Cas to trust him.

……….

“Gabriel, what happened to Cas?” Gabe, who had been reading a book with one hand- the other one wasn’t working- snaps his head up.

“That’s none of your business, Dean.”

“Why not? He lives here, I live here. I mean, why can’t I know?” Dean shoots back. Gabriel opens his mouth, ready to argue, but Dean sees him falter, sighing.

“I don’t like talking about what happened. It’s in the past, and that’s where I’d like to keep it.” Dean pursed his lips, and then spoke.

“I was shot in the back when I took my brother to the park. I woke up in the hospital abandoned by my father, and I was sent here. I haven’t seen my brother in almost a year.” Gabriel seemed taken aback by the proclamation. Dean knows that Gabriel already knows this; the whole damn town does, it was in the paper, and obviously Dean’s father left him if he’s here. Dean thinks Gabriel didn’t expect such bluntness, and he hopes that Gabriel will tell him something, anything, about this brother of his.

“Car crash,” he spits out. “I was snapped in half, Castiel didn’t have his seatbelt and he flew right through the window.” Dean flinches. “I lost my legs, Castiel… he has brain damage. He has no social skills. He doesn’t talk, he doesn’t interact- he doesn’t know how to. No amount of therapy has gotten him to speak. You haven’t seen your brother in almost a year, and I haven’t seen mine in almost four.”

“Thank you for telling me, Gabriel.” Dean backs his chair away, leaving Gabriel in the small room looking out over the pasture. As he rolls away, he hears Gabriel call:

“I’m older than you, I’ve known him longer- you can’t help, Dean. I know you think you can, they always think they can, but you can’t. Just let it go. Let him go.” As Dean rolls down the hall, he grows angry. Let him go? Dean can’t ever imagine saying that about Sam. If it was Sam who wasn’t speaking, Dean wouldn’t give an inch. He would be fighting every second of every day to make him better, to help him get better. How had Gabriel just given up?

In that moment, Dean vowed to himself that Castiel would get better. He would make sure of it.

……….

“Hi, Cas, it’s Dean. I’m going downstairs, do you want to join me?”

Four soft knocks.

Dean takes a deep breath, licking his lips, eyes narrowing. It’s a Saturday, everyone’s home and someone will be up there eventually. Sliding his eyes down the hall, Dean leans closer to the door.

“One knock for no, two for yes. Do you want something from downstairs?”

Two knocks. Dean had to bite his lip from yelling in victory.

“Do you want something to eat?”

One knock. Hesitantly, a second knock.

“Do you want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”

Two knocks. Dean can’t stop grinning.

“Do you want anything else? It’s okay if you do, I really want to help out.” A pause, and then two more knocks.

“Do you want something from the library?” Two more knocks. “Is it okay if I pick the books out?” Two more knocks. “Thank you for telling me, Cas. I’ll be back up soon, promise.” Dean’s imagining things, he knows, because he could swear that he heard a soft ‘thank you’ from inside of the door. But that’s impossible.

He smiles and greets everyone as he rolls past them, heart thundering in his chest. He makes his way to the library, carefully inspecting the books on the lower level. He doesn’t know what Castiel’s read, probably everything if he’s been here for almost four years like Gabe said. Dean bites at his lip before finally moving across the room and looking at the classics. He sees Vonnegut and can’t help but hope that he and Castiel have the same taste. He picks two, Timequake and Slapstick, wedging them beside himself on the chair. He rolls out of the library and down the hall into the living room where he finds Charlie. He knows that Jo took Kevin out to play in the snow earlier.

“Hey Charlie,” he greets her. She flicks her eyes up from her computer, smiles, nods. Dean rolls forwards. “Can I ask you a favour?”

“One sec,” she says, typing furiously on the laptop before she stops, slamming the lid closed. “What can I do you for, Dean?”

“Well I’m really into that Game of Thrones book, but I want some lunch. If I made myself a sandwich, could you carry it upstairs for me?”

“Sure thing! Come get me when you’re done.”

“Thanks, Charlie!”

For some reason, asking for help when it’s for Castiel doesn’t feel so bad. It doesn’t make HIM feel so bad.

Charlie carries the sandwich and the glass of milk of the stairs and placed them on his desk. He thanks her profusely, and she tells him anytime before leaving. As soon as he hears her footsteps on the stairs, he pokes his head out the door, sandwich in his lap with the books on one side, the glass of milk on the other. He knocks on Castiel’s door.

“Can I come in? One for no, two for yes.” He hears two distinct knocks and opens the door wide, rolling inside and closing it gently. He looks at the bed to find Castiel in the same place he was last time, curled up in the corner with his knees up to his chest. But this time, a pair or frightened blue eyes are staring at him from a pale face surrounded by crazy brown hair. Dean’s grin only spreads when he sees Castiel, but the boy lowers his head and Dean frowns. “Hey Cas. I’ll put the sandwich on the bedside table, I also brought you some milk, because, y’know, peanut butter and all. My brother-” Dean stops, swallowing harshly at the thought of little Sammy. His birthday is coming up. He shakes his head and continues, finding the bright blue eyes staring at him once more. “Sam, he always threw a fit when there was no milk. So… yeah. Oh! The books. I brought some Vonnegut, not sure if you like that or not, but hey, whatever works, right?” He’s smiling again, and the boy looks more curious, less frightened. “I wasn’t sure if you’d read them or not. Timequake and Slapstick?” He sees the barest shake of the boy’s head. “Oh, well they’re really good! I think you’ll like them.” Dean realizes he’s right at the edge of the bed. He moves the chair back a little, pulling the books from beside him and placing them on the dresser. “Anyway, here you go. I’ll be back tomorrow. Unless you want to do something else?” Castiel’s head immediately goes down to his knees. “Yeah, I understand. I’ll see you tomorrow, Cas!”

Dean rolls his chair back, carefully making sure the coast is clear before he makes his way from Cas’s room to his own. When he closes his door, his heart in beating a mile a minute. Cas shook his head no. Dean got him to do that. He can’t believe it. He’s grinning from ear to ear, the image of blue eyes filling his head.

Maybe this place isn’t so bad. Maybe Dean doesn’t have to be afraid. Maybe, just maybe, something good is finally coming his way. It’s been fifteen years of bullshit; Dean thinks he deserves a little happiness.


	5. Then and now

His birthday was a few weeks ago, and February is coming to a close. He’s been living with Chuck and Sonny for nearly two months. He isn’t going to school this semester, but he’s been taking online courses and is hopefully going in the fall. Things have been looking up for Dean, he actually feels… happy. There was an incident a few weeks ago with the catheter that was incredibly embarrassing, but besides that he’s been home free.

He still tries to get Castiel to come downstairs every day. Every day he says he isn’t ready and every day Dean brings him his lunch, takes his old books away and brings him new ones. Castiel now leaves a note on the pile of old books of the ones he wants to read next. His writing is like a child’s, scribbled and large, but Dean can make it out and he brings the books down. Dean knows that Castiel still leaves at midnight and goes to the library, he waited up for him one night, but he thinks that Castiel only goes down there to see which books he wants next before going back upstairs and that makes Dean feel… odd. He isn’t sure that there’s another word for it. It’s a strange, squishy warm feeling that also makes him want to vomit. Hell, he knows what the feeling is- he’s just not willing to admit it.

When he goes into Castiel’s room today, he has a bowl of soup on a tray. He was very careful when bringing it up the stairs and even more careful when putting it back on his lap. He’s excited today, and he’s not really sure why.

He knocks on Castiel’s door and asks if he can come in, waiting for the two knocks to accompany it. They don’t come. Dean frowns, and knocks again. And again. When he knocks for the fourth time and there is no response, Dean opens the door and peers into the room. Castiel is on the bed, shaking violently. Dean rolls into the room, putting the soup on the floor hurriedly and getting as close to the bed as possible. He reaches out and grabs at Castiel’s arm.

“Cas? Cas, are you okay?” Castiel rips his arm back, pulling himself closer to the wall, the shaking not stopping. Dean lightly touches him and he screams. Dean flinches, flying into an upright position, his hands on his wheels, backing him away.

Dean wheels himself into the hallway before speeding to the stairs.

“Sonny! Sonny!” he calls before going back down the hallway, chair stopped outside of Castiel’s door. Sonny’s footsteps come pounding up the stairs and he takes one look at Dean’s panicked face and Castiel’s open door before striding down the hallway and right up to Castiel’s bed. Castiel has moved even further against the wall and has moved his bed away, trying to shove himself down under the bed. Sonny whirls around to face Dean, anger in his eyes for the first time.

“What did you do?” he demands. Dean flinches.

“Nothing! Nothing, I swear, I just brought him some lunch and-”

“I know what you were _doing_ Dean, do you think Chuck and I are idiots, that we wouldn’t notice Castiel’s habits changing? I’m asking what you _did_. Did you touch him? Try to force him out of bed? What? What!?”

“Nothing! Sonny, please, I just want to help!” The anger fades from Sonny’s eyes and he looks… afraid.

“I’m- I’m sorry, Dean. I’m truly sorry. I-” Benny appears at the top of the stairs and Sonny’s head snaps towards him.

“Chuck is with Kevin, what happened?”

“Benny, I need you to help Dean downstairs, Castiel’s having a panic attack. I can deal with it.” With that, Sonny disappears inside Castiel’s room, gently closing the door. Dean, bewildered, looks at Benny for some kind of advice, assistance, he doesn’t know what. Benny sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“Come here, brother, I suppose it’s time to do some talking,” Benny says. Soon the two of them are downstairs in the small living area with the fireplace and the green walls that Dean had first visited when he came to the house.

“What- what just happened?” Dean asks. Benny shakes his head.

“I am truly sorry about Sonny, Dean, that was not your fault at all, I promise you. And I know that he’ll be down here as soon as he can to tell you that himself, and how sorry he is for snapping at you.

“I know that Chuck told you about how he ended up here and why this was his dream. It’s different for Sonny and I. We have the same dad and different moms. His mom raised him up here in South Dakota and mine raised me in Louisiana. He and I met once when we were young and then reconnected as adults. Sonny… he’s had some tough times. He was in jail for a while, he had a bad childhood and ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. It hurt him, because it really wasn’t his fault- he was just trying to live.

“After that, he opened up a boy’s home to help kids like him that didn’t deserve the life they were living and needed a place to go after doing something stupid. He and Chuck met by chance, in a grocery store of all places, and after they got married, Chuck decided to invest his money in this big house. At first they helped out the underprivileged kids, and then they helped disabled kids too. But the types of kids that Sonny had coming to the house weren’t bad kids, just misunderstood- but it wasn’t a good mix, having society’s rejects with kids who are so physically fragile. So after they’re last foster, he was sixteen, moved out after graduation, they stopped bringing those kids in, and focused mostly on the disabled kids.

“I came up here after I got degree in childhood education. I homeschool the kids, which you know, since I got you into those online classes and I’m teaching Kevin braille. After everything that happened, Sonny is very protective. Of me, of Chuck, and of all of his kids, but mostly of a certain few who can’t help themselves. We mostly take in kids that will one day be able to leave, to function in society, like everyone who lives here. Except for Gabriel and Castiel. Gabe told me that you know about the car accident and that Castiel has brain damage. Chuck, Sonny, and I all know that you’ve been going to see Castiel every day, bringing him food and books. We haven’t said anything because we think it’s helping.”

“I think it is too,” Dean interrupts, “he’s been communicating more with the knocking system, we have different things for different foods and he’s been writing me things.” It feels good to get these things off of his chest, Dean’s been worried for weeks that he’s been doing something wrong, that this isn’t really helping Castiel. But hearing Benny say it makes Dean feel a thousand times better, like he’s actually made a difference in Cas’s life.

“I know, we’ve been keeping a close eye on Castiel for years and I think he’s been improving, which is wonderful, but now that this has happened there are things that you need to know about him, Dean.

“Castiel and Gabriel will never live normal lives. They will both always need help. Gabriel less so, he can likely live on his own at some point in time at his own house as long as he has a caretaker that stops in to help him, and as long as he has a job that will accommodate his needs. But when we took Gabriel in, we found out that he wouldn’t come unless his brother could too. That’s when we looked into Castiel’s file. In the car accident, he had a large amount of trauma dispersed all across his brain, which meant that we had no idea what kind of behaviours would be affected in the long run and what had changed about him. The doctors determined that the largest section that had been affected was the left front temporal lobe-” Benny pointed at the left side of his forehead, “-and that while it was not as severe of a trauma to that section of the brain as it could have been, it was still very severe. Castiel has seen numerous speech therapists, and they have all determined that he has the ability to speak, but not well, and that it is stopping him from speaking at all, as he feels that he can’t contribute to the conversation if he can’t say very many words. His social interactions have been limited since coming here, because he doesn’t remember what social interactions are. He knows he should be able to be around people and make friends and feel love for his brother, but he doesn’t remember how to. And some of his fine motor skills have been affected, such as his writing abilities, which you know.

“Castiel is very intelligent despite all of these things, Dean. He reads like I’ve never seen before, as you know, and we continue to buy new books nearly monthly so that he doesn’t run out. He’s the reason we have a library, it used to be a bedroom and there was a bookshelf in the living room but we converted it into a library and it’s been very helpful to all of us, not just Castiel. Even though he’s very smart, it won’t help him if he can’t make his own food and ask for help when he needs it. He gets very frustrated with himself because he can’t do what he remembers being able to do, and it can cause fits that lead to panic attacks, which is what he had today. He should calm down soon, Sonny is good at calming him down after all these years just by reading to him. But it will happen again, it’s just a matter of time as to when. It’s what happened the day you ran into him too.” Dean tenses at that.

“It’s not your fault at all, Dean. It just happened. It’s in the past and no one is to blame for it.” Benny pauses, looking out the window. “I never even thought about knocks. I had boards and books and countless other things, but knocks slipped right by me. He’s chosen you, Dean. You’re the only one that kept going back and wouldn’t stop. The rest of us did the same thing, but for some reason he’s picked you out of the lot. That’s a lot of pressure, and you need to know that if you can’t handle it it’s completely fine, there’s nothing bad about that. But he does like you, and we can help you to keep doing the things you’ve been doing if you would agree to that.

“I’m sorry, this has been a lot of information to get in such a short amount of time, I know it must be… overwhelming.”

“No,” Dean mutters. “I’m glad I know. I think it will help me to help him.” Benny smiles.

“So you’re still up for that, then, huh?”

“Yeah,” Dean says. And quietly, he mumbles, “It’s what Sam would’ve wanted me to do.” He knows Benny must have heard him, but he’s grateful that the other man doesn’t say anything.

………..

The next day after everyone but he and Kevin leave for school, Dean knocks on Castiel’s door and asks “Can I come in?” He gets two knocks in reply. Dean opens the door and rolls in to find Castiel sitting against the wall, knees to his chest, piercing blue eyes looking right at him. Dean stops, looking back, and Castiel doesn’t look away, eyes flitting up and down from Dean’s feet to his head before resting back on his eyes. He raises his head before he lowers it until only his eyes are showing again. Dean looks away first, eyes landing on the books with the note on the top, Castiel’s familiar scrawl on them with a new list of books.

“Oh man, don’t tell me you want to start reading Dean Koontz,” Dean groans, looking up at Castiel, who’s brow has furrowed ever so slightly. “He’s so overrated and his books are honestly just shit. He rushes his endings and his plots hardly ever make sense, it’s goddam ridiculous. Listen, if you want a good horror novel, I can find you some Stephen King. I’m not even a fan of his, I prefer to branch off into independent artists or online for my horror fix, but Stephen King has a dozen really fucking terrifying novels. I can you up Misery, It, and The Shining tonight to get you started. But no Dean Koontz, I refuse to stoop to that level.” Castiel almost looks like he has a smile on his face. “Deal?” Dean sees him reach out to the wall before he stops and lowers his hand. He slowly nods his head instead and Dean grins. “You’re gonna shit yourself when you read The Shining, I swear.”

And with that, Dean leaves to go to the library. He realizes that he forgot to ask what Cas wanted for lunch, but at this point he knows when in doubt, peanut butter and jam.

As he rolls into the library, he stops, thinking about how little has changed, even after the panic attack. How quickly Castiel seems to have bounced back after an episode.

Dean can’t help but think that it might be because of him, and that thought makes him smile, even if it’s only a little bit.


	6. PB&J

Dean wakes up, but he doesn’t make a move to get out of bed.

He looks at the clock- it reads 8am. He ignores it, rolls over, and closes his eyes, falling back asleep.

There’s on a knock on his door- the clock reads 8:17am.

Dean just closes his eyes and ignores it.

Another knock.

8:30am.

Again, Dean ignores it, closing his eyes tight and pulling the blanket up over his head.

This time it’s a pounding, followed by “Dean, you’re late, you missed breakfast.” A pause, and then footsteps shuffling away. The clock reads 8:45am.

Dean rolls over and goes back to sleep.

There’s a soft knock on the door. His eyelids slowly peel back. He hears the door creak open and soft footsteps enter. He doesn’t make a move to roll over, keeping his eyes on the wall, hoping whoever it is will think he’s asleep and leave him.

“Dean, it’s Sonny. You awake?” Dean doesn’t respond. Sonny sighs, moving across the room to sit in the chair by Dean’s dresser. “I have all day, you know.” Dean still doesn’t move. “Come on, Dean, you need to get out of bed.”

“Why?” Dean asks. He hears the chair creak.

“Because you need to get breakfast and brush your teeth and do your work.” Dean shakes his head.

“Not today,” he says. Sonny sighs.

“Dean-”

“Not today!” he snaps. There’s a pause. Sonny rises and leaves the room.

Dean closes his eyes, falling back asleep.

He doesn’t know what time it is when he hears the next knock. He doesn’t even open his eyes this time. He can hear someone talking but he doesn’t respond, doesn’t even listen. Eventually he hears footsteps walking away.

Dean wakes up with a weird feeling. He rubs his hand over his eye, pulling himself into a sitting position.

There’s someone sitting in his chair.

“Hello?” he calls. The person doesn’t move. They have their knees pulled up to their chest and their head down. They have brown hair. “Castiel?” He sees one arm move from around his knees and gently knock on the dresser twice. “What are you doing here?” The arm moves back around his leg. “Cas, listen, we can’t talk, just. Go back to your room. Leave me alone.” Bright blue eyes peak out from over the knees. Dean looks away. Castiel lowers his head again. Dean sighs. “Cas, just leave, okay? I don’t want you here.” He doesn’t move.

Dean rolls over and closes his eyes. Eventually he drifts off to sleep.

The next time he wakes up, there’s pink light coming through his window. He sits himself up, looking at the chair. Castiel is still there. He hasn’t moved an inch.

“Hey,” Dean calls. Blue eyes peak up, replacing the dark mess of hair. “Why are you still here?” Castiel lowers his head, arms tightening around his knees. Dean sighs, swallowing harshly. He turns to roll over again and stops, looking at the side of his bed. His heart lurches. There’s a glass of milk and a sandwich on his side table with a copy of… of Misery. Dean looks from the end table to Castiel.

“Did you do this?” he asks. Castiel raises his head. Dean gestures to the end table. Castiel lowers his head and knocks two times. “Why?” Castiel shrugs. Dean looks back at the table. “Thank you.” Castiel looks at him and then back down at his knees.

Dean reaches beside him and picks up the sandwich, bringing it to his mouth and taking a bite. He chews slowly, keeping his eyes lowered from Castiel. Not that it would matter anyway, the other boy hasn’t looked up once since Dean thanked him. He finished the sandwich and chugs the milk- it’s still cold. Dean looks at the clock. It reads 4pm.

“Did you get this for me?” Castiel doesn’t respond. “Cas.”

He looks up.

“Did you go to the kitchen and get this for me?”

He shrugs, lowering his head again.

“Why?”

Castiel doesn’t raise his head again, but he shrugs his shoulders, shuffling closer to the dresser, arms tightening around his legs.

“My brother’s birthday is in a month from today.” Castiel doesn’t move. “I want to see him, but I know I can’t. He’s probably halfway across the country by now and there’s no way anyone can track down my dad even if he wasn’t. I miss him. I miss running with him and I miss carrying him on my shoulders and I miss taking him to school and I miss everyone being too afraid to ever make fun of him because he had his big brother to protect him. I miss not being weak and stupid and broken. I miss not being a fucking cripple.”

Castiel looks up from his knees, head slowly moving to the side.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean mutters. “You’re not supposed to say cripple because it’s demeaning and all that shit. Doesn’t mean it’s not fucking true. Not saying something doesn’t make it true.” Castiel blinks slowly. “I know. I’m just upset so I’m being rude because I’m upset. I’ve talked about it with that stupid therapist and I don’t care right now. I have a right to be angry! I got shot! I got shot, Cas, and I’m- I’m trying to be happy and cheery and be the person everyone wants me to be but I’m fucking angry! I’m fifteen and I’m fucking useless, Cas, I can’t do anything. I can never join the track team, I can never have sex with a girl, fuck, I can’t learn to tap dance. Do I want to learn to tap dance? No, but I want to have sex! And now I can’t! I’m useless.”

Castiel shakes his head.

“Yes I am.”

“Nnn,” Castiel mumbles. Dean’s head snaps towards him.

“What? Did you just say something?” Castiel burrows his head down, pushing his head between his knees. He starts shaking. “Whoa, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay, you don’t have to do anything else, Cas, it’s okay.” Castiel’s hands move to his hair, gripping it tightly. “No, Cas, oh God, listen, I’m not worthless, neither are you, okay? Cas-”

He moans, an incomprehensible sound.

“Shit,” Dean breathes. He throws the blankets off himself and puts his legs over the bed, pulling his wheelchair close. Castiel makes a high-pitched sound, shoving himself closer to the dresser, wedging himself between the dresser and the chair on the floor. Dean flops himself into the chair, fingers dancing across the wheels, unsure of what to do. He looks to the left of himself and grabs the book that Castiel left on his bedside table.

Dean begins to read. He reads about Paul Sheldon, an injured author. He reads about Annie Wilkes, a crazy fan.

He reads until he must turn the bedside lamp on. He reads through footsteps and wheels going past his door, through light and hard knocks to which he practically growls “Go away!” he reads through Castiel’s breaths, laboured and raspy, calm and tired, and screaming that will cause rushed footsteps that stop at Dean’s loud outbursts. He reads about pain and suffering and madness. And when he looks up from the book to see Castiel asleep between the chair and the dresser, he stops reading. The clock says that it’s past midnight.

He puts the book back on the table, more than halfway done. Dean wheels away from his bed and to the door. When he opens it, Chuck and Sonny are across from his room, Chuck asleep with his head on Sonny’s chest, Sonny scrolling through his phone. He looks up at Dean, closing the phone and shoving it in his pocket.

“Is he-”

“He fell asleep,” Dean tells him through a yawn. Sonny gently stands, Chuck bolting awake with a start. Sonny moves in the room and shoves the chair aside, scooping Castiel into is arms. The boy is dead to the world as Sonny carries him down the hall to his own room. Chuck stands, running one hand over the other as he looks from Dean to the floor and back.

“Are you okay?” Chuck asks Dean. The young man shrugs.

“Why do you want to know?” Chuck crosses his arms over his chest.

“Well you were locked away in your room all day, Dean, and then you started talking to yourself and screaming at us to leave you alone.”

“Yeah, and as you can see I wasn’t alone and I wasn’t talking to myself.”

“I’m going to call that therapist tomorrow-”

“Jesus Christ, I’m FINE, Chuck.”

Chuck pauses.

“How did you get him to come into your room? Did you drag him in there?”

“No. I woke up and he was there.”

“Why do I have this strange feeling you’re lying?”

“Why do I have the strange feeling you have a giant cock shoved up you a-”

“Why are you being like this, Dean? This is so unlike you!”

“How would you know, Chuck? I’ve been here what, four or five months- how do you know I’m not just a giant asshole and I’ve been hiding it all this time?”

“Dean, if you hurt him, just tell me-”

“I didn’t-” Dean starts yelling. He stops, taking a breath. “I’d never hurt him.”

Sonny closes Castiel’s door softly.

“Dean, go back to bed. Chuck, downstairs.”

“I-” Chuck starts.

“Down. Stairs.” Chuck shakes his head, laughs, throws his hands in the air, and walks to the stairs, muttering to himself. Sonny gestures to Dean’s room and walks inside behind him.

“I didn’t hurt him,” Dean says as Sonny closes the door. Sonny leans against it, putting a hand over his eyes and dragging it down his face.

“Dean. I like you. I like you a lot, son. But. You’re not helping him.”

“What do you mean I’m not helping him? The last thing I heard from one of you is that Benny thinks I’m helping him. Chuck thinks I’m abusing him, and now you’re saying I’m making it worse. I’ve been going to see him for months! He tried to talk to me today! So who’s right?” Dean shouts.

“I don’t know!” Sonny shouts back. “But we aren’t. We aren’t helping. I need to talk to Chuck. Please, leave Castiel alone.”

Sonny heads to the door. Dean’s head snaps up.

“You can’t send him away,” Dean calls. Sonny stops, hand on the door.

“We aren’t the right facility to house him,” Sonny sighs.

“Oh but moving him to a completely new place where he doesn’t know anyone, separating him from his brother- that’s the right choice?”

“It’s not a choice you get to make.” Sonny closes the door behind himself.

Dean can feel the anger coursing through him. He wheels across the room, hand on the doorknob. He lets go, wheeling back to his bed, picking up his lamp and throwing it at the wall with a yell.

The room goes dark and Dean slumps in his chair.

All that he wants is to hug his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long story short, I had cancer, so I was a little busy.
> 
> I made a tumblr for my shitty fanfic, check it out, I'll be using it to post updates. Feel free to send me a message.
> 
> https://fab-elsey.tumblr.com/


	7. The Garage

The snow melts. Sam’s birthday comes and goes. It’s summertime and Dean is excited that everyone is home from school and that he doesn’t have to be alone in that big house anymore.

Castiel is still there, though he doesn’t know how long for.

He’ll walk into the living room and find Chuck and Sonny talking in hushed tones, stopping completely when they see him. Dean doesn’t say anything to Gabriel after Benny begs him not to. He doesn’t even know if he trusts Benny anymore.

It was three days after Sam’s birthday that Dean finally saw Castiel again, his hair long and shaggy, his eyes with bags under them.

It was a coincidence, Castiel going down for a book while Dean rolled to replace the bag at the end of his catheter late at night. It was in that moment that Dean felt it in his chest. That clench, those butterflies. He knew he loved Castiel and he knew that was wrong.

He knew how fucked he was.

Now he isn’t allowed to see Castiel at all, and even if he wanted to, something happened to him. He won’t let Dean near him anymore. He won’t let Dean bring him books, read to him, bring him food, drinks… He knows that Chuck does, later at night when he thinks Dean is asleep. He hears the plate being set outside the doorway at the end of the hall and he opens his door a crack to see Castiel pull the food and drink inside. He knows this isn’t good for him.

But now it’s summer and now he can go outside with Gabriel and he and Charlie and Jo can ride horses and Kevin can let Linda go running. Now he can be free.

Kevin and Jo leave for separate summer camps. Kevin for one for blind children and Jo as a counselor for deaf children. That leaves Charlie, Dean, and Gabe for the month of July until Kevin returns. And Castiel. Gabriel still tries to talk to him through the door, Dean can hear him in the afternoon, but there’s no luck and he always heads back with his head low.

Now it’s as if he doesn’t even remember his brother.

On good hand days Gabriel is out riding horses with Charlie while Dean watches from the fence (he learned quickly that horses are NOT for him, thank you very much). The two have a blast.

It’s during one of those afternoon rides that Dean decides to go inside and get his friends some lemonade. He’s been practicing balancing the glasses on a tray in his lap and he’s pretty decent at it if he says so himself.

When he rolls into the front hallway he stops just outside the kitchen, hearing a whispered voice.

“…and you have the facilities to hold him? To take care of him? What about Gabriel?” Dean’s heart stops in his chest. Gabriel? He pushes his way and Sonny stops talking when he sees the hard look in Dean’s eyes.

“Dean, please-” Dean spins his chair around and hurries from the house, Sonny hanging up the phone and calling after him, loud footsteps chasing him. Dean bolts from the front door and down the winding driveway, Sonny’s voice calling after him until he hears Benny’s too, before both stop. He goes faster and faster, throwing all of his hate, all of his anger into his arms and into his wheels. He flies down the old country road, feeling his emotions drain from him and leave him hollow, tired. He rolls to a stop, head in his hands.

When he looks up, there’s a shadow over him, connected to a gruff man in a trucker’s hat with a scowl.

“Just what d’you think yer doin’ over here, boy?” the man asks. Dean wipes angrily at his eyes.

“Nothin’,” he sniffs, looking away.

“Well then do yer nothin’ somewhere else. Got me worried seein’ yer crippled ass come rollin’ down from that shit house. Go back with yer fancy parents and appreciate what ya got, boy.”

“They aren’t my parents!” Dean snaps before he can stop himself. The man raises an eyebrow. “Sorry,” Dean mumbles, “sir.” The man snorts.

“Sir? Haven’t been called ‘sir’ in a long time.” He takes off his hat and scratches his head before placing it back on, looking at the house Dean came from before sighing. “You want a glass of water, boy?” the man asks. Dean raises his head and nods slowly. Anything to not go back there right now. The man nods. “Bobby. Bobby Singer.” He sticks his hand out. Dean shakes it like his father taught him to.

“Dean Winchester.”

Bobby runs the garage that Dean saw on his way in nearly a year ago now.

“You like cars, boy?” Bobby asks as he takes Dean through the shop into the break area.

“Yeah, I guess,” Dean mumbles. “My dad used to get me to help him fix up our Impala whenever she crapped out.”

“Oh?” Bobby asks, opening a cupboard and getting out a mug and a glass. “What year was she?”

“She was a ’67,” Dean tells him. Bobby nods. “Good year, good car. Four-door?”

“Yup, four-door, hardtop, v8 engine.” Bobby nods along.

“Good car. When’d he pick her up?” Dean shrugs.

“He told me the story when I was a kid, can’t really remember.”

“Hold old are you, boy?” Dean shrugs.

“Seventeen,” he mumbles, thanking Bobby as he hands him a glass of water. Bobby snorts.

“Seventeen my ass. You don’t even have a hair of scruff on ya, boy. How old are you really?”

“Fifteen,” Dean sighs.

“Too young to hire,” Bobby mutters. Dean lowers his head. “But I do need a student volunteer.” Dean’s head snaps up.

“What?”

“I’ve been needing an apprentice close by fer years now, but ain’t no one live ‘round here that knows cars for shit. I imagine yer daddy taught ya more than just the specs on that car. Can ya fix an engine, change oil?”

“Yessir,” Dean says excitedly, setting his water down.

“Well the lift is adjustable so you should be able to get those wheels under it for basic changes. Unless you reckon you’d be able tuh get yerself on a roller… could whip somethin’ up… but the lift is the best option…” Dean can barely hear Bobby’s mutterings with the excited thoughts running through his own head. A summer job! Not a paying job, but a job! Something to do to get out of that fucking house! He’s practically bouncing in his seat. “…we don’t get much business out here no more, maybe a dozen cars a week, but I can offer you what I’ve got. And you can help me down at the salvage yard, getting’ what’s needed off the scraps and cataloguing.” Dean nods enthusiastically. “When can ya start?”

“Now,” Dean practically yells. Bobby chuckles.

“Give me a day tuh get ya a name tag, how’s that sound?” Dean nods again. Bobby nods back. “Well get on back to that fancy house a yers, boy. I don’t know what’s goin’ on over there but them’s some nice fellas and they care ‘bout ya. Don’t have ‘em worryin’. Get on with ya.” Dean sighs and nods.

“Yessir,” he mumbles, setting the glass on the table and wheeling back. He smiles and waves at Bobby before he makes his way out of the shop, a huge grin on his face the whole way.

………..

Dean spends most of his days rolling down the drive from his house to Bobby’s garage. By the time Kevin has returned from camp he has muscle on his arms and the thin wisps of a mustache, which Charlie BEGS him to change, while Gabe tells him that it really suits his pedo look and to not a change a THING. Dean rolls his eyes and shaves the next day, but it’s the beginning of him liking himself once more.

Bobby doesn’t pay him, but he feeds him, and more than once he’s offered Dean his guest bed before realizing the boy can’t make it up the stairs to sleep there.

Every night he rolls himself back to Sonny and Chuck’s with a feeling of dread.

He hasn’t seen Castiel in over a month.

Gabriel says that no one has, that his brother has become more secluded than ever.

One night Dean returns from his shift at Bobby’s to yelling and the sound of glass shattering. Gabe flies past him with tears in his eyes and Dean lets him go, not bothering to follow.

He makes his way into the kitchen where Chuck has his hand against his head, covering his eyes.

“What happened?” Dean asks. Chuck lowers his hand and sighs.

“Gabriel and Castiel are being adopted.” Dean feels his heart stop.

“What? What the fuck do you mean _adopted_?” he demands, hands on his wheels, not sure what he wants to do. Chuck gestures at the small table in the kitchen and sits down himself, Dean rolling up to join him.

“Gabriel and Castiel’s parents didn’t just have two children, Dean. There were five. Two died in the accident with their parents, they were just young. There was an older boy, seventeen, and he was at home the day of the accident. He went into a separate foster care home and was out within six months when he turned eighteen. Since then he’s been trying to get Gabriel and Castiel back, but he’s never had the facility to do so and we’ve always managed to win in court to keep them with us.” Chuck lowers his head and sighs before looking back at Dean.

“There’s a trust fund set up by their parents so that when the oldest child reaches twenty-one they have access to all of the funds that are available. Michael just turned twenty-one and he now has the funds to care for his brothers. He wants them back.” Dean shakes his head.

“He can’t have them! Gabriel is old enough-”

“Gabriel is old enough to know that he’ll need to be in a care facility and he’ll need help for the rest of his life. If he doesn’t take Michael’s help he’ll only be able to stay here until he’s eighteen next year, Dean. He knows that he needs to help himself. And he doesn’t have a choice.” Dean is quiet.

“What about Cas?” he asks.

“Castiel will be sent somewhere that can help him.”

“What the hell does that mean? So Michael wants his brothers just so he can ship them off to somewhere else? What the FUCK, Chuck!? You’re allowing this!?”

“Tell us what to do, Dean. No, no, tell me. Tell me what Sonny and I should do. What’s the better option for these boys? We can’t help them forever, there are hundreds of other kids out there that will need homes when Gabriel and eventually Castiel turn eighteen. Do we turn them away because Gabriel will be less happy with his brother? Do we turn them away when we know we can help them, while being here has done nothing good for Castiel?” Dean is silent.

“Can I visit them?” he asks.

“Gabriel, yes. He’ll be living with Michael with a nurse for the time being, as he can still be at home. Castiel, on the other hand… Michael is sending him to a facility where only family can visit. He doesn’t want Sonny or I visiting him at the home. He wants to give him a fresh start. I’m sorry, Dean.” Dean can feel a lump rising in his throat.

“But- but he’s my friend,” he croaks. Chuck gives Dean a small smile.

“I know, buddy.” Dean averts his eyes, sniffing.

“How can he do this?” Dean asks. “I’ve never even seen him here!”

“Gabriel would refuse to see him, and it’s not like Castiel could communicate that he wanted to visit with him. He stopped coming when he was twenty and only had a year to go before Gabriel had no choice but to say yes. Sonny is upstairs telling Castiel right now. The rest of the kids will know tomorrow.”

“Who will come here after them?” Dean asks.

“We’ve gotten a number of calls in the last four years, Dean. We’ll find another couple of kids to fill their rooms easily enough, just like we found you after our last foster child grew up.”

“I never did find out anything about them. What were they like?” Chuck smiles softly.

“That’s a story for another day,” he says, standing from the table. “I need to go and speak with Gabriel.” Chuck leaves the room and Dean pushes himself back from the table. He feels numb. His stomach is aching and his hands are shaking and he feels numb to his very core.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” He wheels from the kitchen and outside once more, down the drive, until he finds himself sweating and out of breath in Bobby’s garage once more.

“Forget something, Dean?” Bobby asks, not raising his head from the car engine it’s buried in. Dean’s voice is thick when he responds.

“Uh, no,” he admits. “I just. Do you have anything I can do?” Bobby looks up from the car and Dean sniffs. “Anything at all?” Bobby nods his head without a word, nodding at the car in front of him.

“C’mere and I’ll teach you something.” Dean nods, rolling forwards and pulling himself close to the hood of the car.

Bobby’s words distract him as much as they can, but all Dean can think about is Castiel. How much time does he have? What if he gets back and his friend is already gone?

Dean wipes a tear from his eye, hoping Bobby doesn’t notice.

Why can’t life be fair, just this once?


	8. Goodbyes

Dean doesn’t go to Bobby’s for the next week. Dean only has that week left to be with Gabriel and Castiel. Well. To be with Gabriel. He spends the first day camped outside Castiel’s room. Benny finds him there late that night, passed out with his head against his chest. Benny rolls him into his room and wakes him up before helping him into bed. The next day, Dean doesn’t look at Castiel’s room as he rolls past.

He spends the next six days with Gabriel. Jo comes back two weeks early from her summer job to bid Gabriel farewell. Dean, Charlie, Jo, and Gabriel spend their days riding horses (yes, Dean tries again- yes, he only makes it five minutes before he pussies out) and their nights watching endless amounts of movies until the early hours of the morning.

On the last night, they stay up playing truth or dare.

“Gabriel, truth or dare,” Charlie asks.

“Dare, of course,” Gabriel scoffs.

“Fine. I dare you to ask truth or dare and then shut the fuck up until the next time it’s your turn.”

“Madam, you DARE!?”

“Oh sir, I DARE!”

“I accept your dare. Dean- truth or dare?”

“Uh,” Dean says, tapping his fingers on his leg. “Truth.”

“Too pussy for a dare?” Gabe taunts.

“No, I just prefer to NOT say dare when you’re involved. Last time I had to lick the end of my own catheter, Gabriel.” Gabriel laughs at that.

“Oh, such a good time, such a good time. Alright, truth. Truth for the Winchester… are you gonna miss me when I’m gone?” Gabriel asks.

“Aren’t those the lyrics to the cup song?”

“Just. Answer the question. Okay?” And for a moment, Dean sees in his eyes that Gabriel is serious about the question, that he needs to hear the word yes, that he’s terrified of the future.

“Yeah buddy. Of course I am. And as soon as I can I’m gonna visit you. I promise,” Dean says, giving Gabriel a small smile. Gabriel smiles in return, relief in his face.

The rest of the night is full of laughs and a couple of tears- Gabriel’s, when he’s dared to get punched in the face. They all fall asleep in the living room, Dean on the couch, Gabriel on the loveseat, and Charlie and Jo curled up together on the carpet. Wheelchairs and prosthetic limbs scatter the floor and coffee table. When Dean wakes up he can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous the room looks.

“Hawaii Five-O,” Gabriel snorts, eyes flashing open and torso jerking upwards. Dean just laughs harder, and soon Gabriel is laughing just as hard as Dean, the two of them shushing each other and giggling, pointing at Jo and Charlie, who have both somehow turned into a giant snuggle pile. Gabriel stretches out and grabs his phone, snapping pictures of them and giving Dean a thumbs up.

There’s a knock behind them. Dean turns to see Sonny, hand on the back of his neck, eyes averting Gabriel’s.

“We just got a call,” Sonny says.

“Mikey’s on his way,” Gabriel states. Sonny nods. “Welp,” Gabriel groans, shimmying himself up the arm of the loveseat, “guess I’m gonna need some help to get ready. One last ride, Sonny?” Sonny smiles softly.

“Of course, kiddo,” Sonny says, crossing the room to help Gabriel sit up.

An hour later Gabriel is in his chair by the front door, bags by his side. Sonny and Chuck are fussing over him, Benny upstairs with Castiel.

There’s a knock on the door.

Sonny opens it to a man that looks nothing like Gabriel, but a surprising amount like Castiel. He is tall with dark hair and eyes that seem to shift from blue to green depending on where they are looking. He’s handsome, that’s for sure.

“Michael,” Sonny says with a grin, stepping back and gesturing inside with his outstretched arm. Michael smiles back at him before it broadens at the sight of Gabriel. Michael wraps his arms around his brother.

“Gabe, it’s been too long,” Michael says, voice muffled by Gabriel’s shirt.

“Yeah, well,” Gabriel mumbles, eyes drifting from his brother as Michael stands back up. There is a pause before Charlie, who has appeared from the living room with Jo, coughs. “Oh. Michael, you remember Charlie and Jo. This is Dean, he’s new.” Michael nods.

“So you’re the one I’ve heard so much about,” Michael comments. Dean’s brow furrows- has Gabriel been speaking with his elder sibling? And if so, why about Dean? “Chuck told me all about how you were helping Castiel learn how to communicate,” Michael continues. “Castiel will be in a facility for the time being, but as he shows improvement the doctor has assured me that visitors will be welcome, so you can come and see him soon enough.” Dean’s eyes flash to this stranger at that.

“How soon?” Dean asks.

“Well, we can’t say for sure until Castiel is assessed,” Michael tells him. Benny appears at the top of the stairs with Castiel’s suitcase, which falls until it lands with a bang at the landing.

“Shit, sorry,” Benny mutters, hurrying down the stairs to right the suitcase and put it by the door with Gabriel’s. “Okay,” he says, clapping his hands together. “How are we gonna do this?”

“Did he hint at coming out?” Chuck asks, hand-in-hand with Kevin.

“No,” Benny sighs. “He just crawled deeper under the blankets when I said Michael was on his way.” Benny looks at Michael and nods. “Michael.”

“Benny,” Michael returns, “good to see you.”

“And you,” Benny tells him. He sighs, running his hands down his face. “We can’t force him out of there, it’ll just traumatize him about leaving if we drag him out. We need a plan.”

“I hate to say it, but you guys know him better than I do. I’ll do whatever you need me to, but for now I’ll load the bags into the car while you think something up,” Michael says, opening the door once more and grabbing Castiel and Gabriel’s bags, walking out the front door to his truck with them.

Chuck, Sonny, and Benny start talking amongst themselves, and Gabriel gestures at Dean, nodding his head towards the hall. He starts wheeling himself down, Dean following. They end up back in that room that Dean went into the very first night, Gabriel’s chest rising and falling heavily.

“I think I’m having a panic attack, Dean,” he huffs out.

“Okay, okay,” Dean says, wheeling closer to Gabriel and putting his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Just take a few deeps breaths, it’s all going to be okay. Michael is a good guy, he seems really nice.”

“I’m so used to being here, I like my life here, I like my friends and my school and I like my room and I feel like I’m finally at home… And now it’s all being taken away and I don’t want to start over again. I’m scared, Dean,” Gabriel admits quietly. Dean rubs his shoulder.

“I understand, man. I know exactly how you feel. Coming here was terrifying and I hated it and everything changed and now… now you’re leaving and you’re like my best friend. I don’t know what I’m going to do when you leave, Gabe. But these kind of things happen for a reason and lead to the better. If I’d never come here I never would have met you. So I know things seem really bad right now, but good things are gonna come out of it, Gabe,” Dean tells him, smiling when Gabriel lets out a sigh of relief, nodding. “You good?” Dean asks.

“Yeah, yeah man. I think I’m okay,” Gabe replies. “Thanks. You’re really good at calming people down. Maybe you should become a therapist or something.” Dean snorts at that.

“Me? A therapist? Yeah, no,” Dean laughs. There’s a knock on the door.

“Dean?” Sonny says. “Is it okay if I come in?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Dean calls. Sonny pops his head into the room before stepping in.

“We need you, Dean,” Sonny says, sighing and rubbing a hand down the side of his face. “Castiel won’t respond to any of us and you’re the only one who’s managed to talk to him in any way in the past.”

“What about Gabe?” Dean asks. Gabriel shakes his head.

“He hasn’t talked to me since before the accident and he hasn’t tried since. If anyone’s gonna get him out of that room it’s you, Dean,” Gabriel tells him.

“But he hasn’t come near me in months! He won’t knock and he won’t let me come in his room… I just don’t think I’m going to be any help with it,” Dean confesses.

“What’s the harm in giving it a try, son?” Sonny asks. Dean bites at his lip before nodding.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. Let’s give it a try,” Dean sighs.

Dean goes up the stairs with a crowd of people giving him thumbs up from the landing. He wheels himself down to end of the hallway, to the last door. He knocks gently. There’s no response, as expected. Dean opens the door and wheels himself in, closing the door behind himself. There’s a Castiel shaped lump under the blanket in the middle of the bed.

“Cas?” he calls out. The lump moves slightly. “Hey, man. It’s Dean. You probably know that. I hope you know that.” Dean pauses, scratching at the back of his neck. “So Michael is downstairs. You probably know that too. I’m sure he’s come up here. God, they’ve all come here I’m sure. That must be overwhelming. I’m rambling.” Dean stops, taking a deep breath. “Look, Cas, you need to come out from under those sheets. You’ve got things to do and people to see. A whole new adventure.

“Come on, man, you need to come out from under there.” The sheet doesn’t move. Dean rolls closer to the bed. “When you move out of here, you’re going to be somewhere so much better, Cas. You’ll be able to be safe _everywhere_. You can leave your room in the day and no one will bother you… I think that sounds pretty nice. I mean, I don’t know about you, but being able to go out whenever I want sounds incredible… all you have to do is leave this room in this house one time. Just once, Cas, and then you can be somewhere better. Somewhere people will understand you and care for you and help you. So just this once come out. Just this once.”

Castiel’s face appears from under the blanket. He’s pale and there are dark rings under his eyes. His hair is long and shaggy, nearly covering his eyes now. He looks at Dean with an intensity Dean’s never seen before.

“Is that a yes?” he asks. Castiel looks away. He pulls his legs over the bed and stands, hunched over, arms crossed tight. “Nice, great, okay, Cas, let’s go.”

And he goes.

He walks down the stairs step by step after Dean as the chair lift takes him down. Once at the landing Castiel doesn’t step past Dean. Everyone seems to be in shock at the fact that Castiel is actually there.

There are no long, heartfelt goodbyes. Everyone has already said goodbye in their own way. There are final hugs with Gabriel and that’s it. Dean leads Castiel out to the van and he climbs in, strapping his seatbelt and turning to the window as if Dean isn’t even there. It hurts. It hurts a lot. Dean gives Gabriel one final one-armed hug and that’s that. The door loses, the truck starts, and Dean is left sitting in the driveway staring at the ever-fading image of the truck.

Dean isn’t sure how long he sits in that driveway, but eventually a hand lands on his shoulder. He turns his head to see Chuck. The man is staring in the direction of the road.

“I’m gonna miss them, Dean,” he tells him.

“Me too, Chuck. Me too.”

“Remember a few weeks ago when you asked about who came before you?” Chuck questions.

“Yeah, so?” Dean answers.

“I think now would be a good time for you to hear the story.”

Inside, the two of them sit down with two coffee cups between them, Chuck’s with tea and Dean’s with hot chocolate.

“His name was Victor and he was blind. He hated everything and everyone. He wouldn’t speak to us, wouldn’t interact… just sat there in silence and darkness. He was a lot like Castiel that way. Both of his parents died in a car crash that left him blind and no one wanted to take him in for two years. So he thought of himself as worthless, as- as no good. It took a long time, but eventually we got through to him and he started leaving his room, started trusting us. He learned braille and he was homeschooled. He left for college a few months before you arrived, Dean, and now he’s living a wonderful life. He has his own apartment and he gets on very well outside these walls and this farm.

“I think leaving was the best thing for him. If he had stayed here, stayed in this comforting bubble, he never would have become who he is now. Castiel needed to leave here, like Victor did. And so did Gabriel. Especially Gabriel. Life goes on and this place is just a stepping stone on the way to bigger and better things. There are two new kids on their way now. We’re already looking into a girl to come here, she’s in the hospital at the moment. And Sonny has been looking into fostering or adopting a baby. We’ve never had a baby here and thought it might be nice… anyways. I think that this is a good thing. I think that, even though we’re all sad to say goodbye to Gabriel, and to say goodbye to Castiel… I think that this is what we need right now.” Sonny finishes his tea. He places his hand on Dean’s shoulder, stops, and walks past him.

Dean sits at the table, expressionless. He brings the cup to his lips and takes a sip. And another. He sits and he thinks about Chuck’s words, and he thinks about how bullshit they are and how ridiculous it is that Chuck lives in this magical fairy land.

Castiel came to him, Castiel trusted him more than his brothers, more than the men who had raised him for years. And now Castiel is gone. Dean feels broken, and he feels sick that he feels broken. What kind of sick person would love someone like Castiel? Someone innocent and vulnerable, someone who could never love him back? Who would put themselves through that?

Dean sits at the table. He brings the cup to his lips and takes a sip. He stops thinking. He doesn’t want to think anymore. He’s too tired.


	9. A Different Kind of Family

The house feels quiet without Gabriel. It feels like no one has said a word since he and Castiel left. At least not a word loud enough to count towards being meaningful.

September 1st.

The day the newest member of their unusual family is coming to join them.

Chuck and Sonny have been to see her many times whilst she’s been in the hospital and each time they come back with more information about her.

Her name is Bela Talbot and she was in a car accident. Her parents both died on impact and she was left with massive burns all over her body and severe nerve damage in her legs. Chuck and Sonny have been continually telling the children not to comment on her looks when she comes to the house and that they need to be respectful of her.

Dean would never say a negative thing about the girl based on how she looks, but he isn’t happy that she’s coming here. In fact, he’s angry. She feels like a hollow replacement of his friends. She’s going to stay in Castiel’s room. In the room that Dean used to deliver milk and peanut butter sandwiches. In the room that Dean would bring and take books to what he hoped was the delight of his friend. The room where Dean realized he wanted Castiel to be more than his friend, even if that was horrible and unethical and unimaginable.

Now there would be an intruder, someone coming in and out as they please, having it be their own space and taking away any hint of Castiel left behind.

Dean tries to rid himself of these thoughts.

It’s not this girl’s fault that she’s coming here and it’s not her fault that Dean’s friends left. But he can’t stop these feelings from rising whenever anyone brings up this Bela Talbot, whether at the dinner table or in passing in a conversation.

At first Dean thinks that he will be chosen to go and get Bela from the hospital, what with them both being confined to a wheelchair. Although Dean is permanently in one and with therapy Bela will one day be able to walk with leg braces or a cane, Dean still thinks that he will be chosen to go and see her, to relate to her how frustrating it is to be confined to one seat for the remainder of your life.

And then Charlie is chosen.

And Dean feels guilty for feeling relieved.

When the time comes for them to come through that front door, Dean isn’t sure what to do, so he just sits in his chair in the hallway, Jo standing next to him and Benny behind him with Kevin by his side. Linda is chewing something at Kevin’s feet and the boy has a book in his hand, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he traces his fingers over the braille inside of what looks to be The Cat in the Hat.

The door opens.

Charlie comes through first, chatting away with a girl in a wheelchair who’s being pushed by Chuck. From looking at her face, you would barely notice anything out of the ordinary with Bela. She has some scars across her cheeks and if you look closely past her long brown hair you can see that half of her ear is missing, but other than that there’s nothing noticeably ‘wrong’ with her. However, from just above her elbows down is most healing and healed burn tissue. She has a blanket over her legs but Dean knows that underneath the tissue must be nearly gone. Chuck had told the children that Bela is lucky she didn’t lose her legs.

“Everyone, this is Bela,” Chuck says and signs to the group of them. “Bela, this is my husband, Sonny, and behind him are Dean and Jo, and back by the stairs is Sonny’s brother Benny with Kevin.” They all give waves and say their hellos.

“Lovely to meet you all,” Bela tells them, and why didn’t Chuck and Sonny mention that she’s British? Dean has never heard an English accent outside of movies and TV shows and he’s immediately intrigued. He loves accents of all kinds and has a few very poorly done imitations of his own.

Chuck leads Bela over to the stairs, showing her how to use the lift as the rest of the children disperse into the living room. Jo immediately has questions.

> _What’s she like? Did she seem snooty or rude or anything? I hear British people can be snooty and rude_. <

“She’s not snooty and rude,” Charlie whispers. “She seems fine. A little quiet, but we’re all a little quiet when we first get here.”

“I don’t know,” Dean says, Charlie signing for him, as he hasn’t yet learned how to sign fast enough to move through a sentence quickly, “something just seems off to me about her.”

“It’s just the accent,” Charlie mutters.

> _Hey, no banging fellow foster kids,_ < Jo signs. Charlie rolls her eyes.

“Excuse you, I made that rule myself, I can damn well enforce it. I don’t want to bang her for her accent. I want to bang her for those gorgeous eyes.” Dean laughs aloud at that, quickly covering his mouth with his hand and hoping that Bela is already upstairs and can’t hear them.

“Wait a second,” he says, “Did you guys have a secret meeting like this when I first got here?”

> _Don’t kid yourself, Dean, we have secret meetings like this whenever anyone new arrives_ ,< Jo signs with a grin. Dean rolls his eyes at that.

“Well I hope you all agreed that I was a wonderful person,” he mutters.

“You were a little doom and gloom at the beginning, I’m sorry to say,” Charlie tells him.

“What did you expect? I was freshly disabled and I’d lost my family,” Dean grumbles.

“Not judging, Dean-o, just telling you the truth,” Charlie says with finger snaps.

> _Oh no. No finger snaps! We talked about this, Charlie_ ,< Jo signs frantically.

“Um, no, _you_ talked about it and I vaguely listened while deciding you were wrong and I’m going to ignore you,” Charlie grins. The two of them begin to go back and forth about the finger snaps like an old married couple, which is when Dean decides it’s about time for him to slowly wheel out of the conversation and into the lobby. Benny is sitting at the bottom of the stairs looking at his phone when Dean leaves the living room.

“How does she seem?” Dean asks, Benny slowly looking up from his phone.

“She seems fine. She seems like she doesn’t really want to be here but she didn’t have much of a choice,” Benny tells him. Dean nods. “She had hoped to live with her aunt in England, but the aunt didn’t accept her and her father was American, she was born American, she just grew up in England for the first fifteen years of her life before coming back here and… well, she’s adjusting.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Dean says, wheeling himself closer to Benny.

“What about you?” Benny asks, sliding his phone in his pocket. “How are you doing, son? You start school tomorrow, you must be feeling something about that.”

“I feel… surprisingly neutral about it,” Dean confesses. “It’s just school. I’ve already had so many things happen, how much worse can school really be from all of this?” Dean gestures around himself. Benny gives him a nod.

“Well neutral is better than pants-shitting-afraid,” Benny jokes and Dean laughs.

“Yeah, definitely an improvement… I’m off to Bobby’s. He needs me for a repair before, in his words, I abandon him for a good for nothing education.” That gets a chuckle out of Benny, who waves goodbye as Dean rolls for the door.

………..

When the bus arrives the next morning, Dean is being lifted onto it rather than waving at his housemates in farewell from the doorway. His heart is pounding a mile a minute in his chest as he’s secured in the spot for his wheelchair on the bus. He hasn’t been on a vehicle since he first got to the house. Sure, there were opportunities to leave for in town trips and to go with Charlie whenever she took the car, but Dean just never wanted to. He didn’t want to see Sioux Falls and spend the entire trip thinking about Sam and life and the way that things should have been.

But now he has no other choice. As the bus does a U turn in the driveway and heads down the road, Dean wrings his hands together tightly.

High school.

Daunting enough on its own, Dean knows now that he lied to Benny when he said he felt neutral. He goes with Charlie and Jo to find his first class, and they give him a tour of the school. Well, as much of the school as they can in the thirty minutes before class. Dean would have been able to be given the full tour if there weren’t so many goddam stairs to go up that he needs to find an elevator for. He can’t even get to the second level of one of the hallways- there’s no elevator. Charlie says that if a student isn’t able to get up the stairs they move the class to a different floor.

Dean thinks it’s bullshit.

The bell rings and he’s forgotten all about the inaccessible floor.

Now he’s carefully wheeling himself through the throng of people on their way to class, getting strange looks from everyone around him. They try to hide it, try to be nonchalant as they look down at the freak who can’t walk, but they aren’t very subtle. Dean can feel his cheeks burning and his heart pounding.

This is a terrible idea.

He finally reaches his class, taking a deep, relieved breath.

Until he sees that all of the desks in the classroom are aligned in neat rows. And all of those desks have their chairs attached to them.

Dean wants to give up. He wants to wheel himself to the bathroom and cry. His only shot at looking even semi normal in this hellhole was being able to sit at a desk to do his work, and now he’s not even going to be able to manage that.

The teacher approaches him with a smile.

“You must be Dean,” she says.

“Man, how did you figure out that I was Dean?” he mutters, and she laughs.

“I love a kid with a good sense of humour. I’m Ms. Barnes. Now, wheel yourself on over to my desk, I’ll be right back with a custodian and we’ll get you a better desk. How’s that sound?” Ms. Barnes asks him.

“Better than my other options,” he sighs. She smiles and leaves the room against the rush of kids passing in the halls.

Final bell rings and Ms. Barnes still isn’t back. The class is chattering away with conversation when she finally steps back into the room, followed by a man with a taller desk with no chair. He sets it at the front of the room and takes the other desk away, screeching as it scrapes against the floor. Ms. Barnes places Dean’s desk at the front of the class and gestures for him to take a seat. Dean can hear the rest of the students snickering as he wheels over, cheeks aflame as he sets himself up at his new desk.

“Now,” Ms. Barnes says loudly. “I’m Ms. Barnes, your theology teacher. If this is the wrong class, leave now.” Two students hurriedly stand and gather their things, panicked looks on their faces as they flee from the class, examining the papers in their hands. There’s laughter from the class as they leave. “Haha, isn’t it so funny that those two got turned around on their first day at school? Gosh, I love it when people laugh at me for my mistakes! I love it when people laugh at me for things I can’t control.” The class is quiet. “I don’t tolerate bullshit in my class. I don’t tolerate snickers and snide remarks. If you want to be little assholes do it somewhere else. This classroom is for learning, not for gossip and certainly not for bullying.” Dean’s cheeks are even hotter. He knows she’s trying to help, but she must know that they all think this is about him.

“Now,” Ms. Barnes says, turning towards the chalkboard, “theology is…”

The class goes on for an hour. When it comes time to leave, Dean waits until everyone else has left their desk before rolling himself out from behind his own and throwing his backpack on his lap. He gives Ms. Barnes a smile before he leaves the classroom.

The next class is English and Dean knows he’s going to hate it just as much as soon as he enters the classroom and sees that every single seat is taken.

“Dean Winchester?” the teacher asks, standing up from behind his desk. Dean nods. “Mr. Turner.” Dean shakes his extended hand.

“There’s that cripple from theology,” Dean hears someone mutter in the front row. He grits his teeth. He sees Mr. Turner’s brow knit.

“Mr. Winchester, a moment in the hall?” Mr. Turner says, gesturing for the door. Dean complies. “Listen here boy,” the teacher says, closing the door behind him. “Kids suck. They’re terrible to me and they’re going to be terrible to you. But soon enough you’re going to find yourself some friends, you understand?”

“Yes sir,” Dean mumbles.

“Good,” says Mr. Turner. “Now, I’m out of seats. I can get you a desk of your own to set up in the back of the class, that sound good to you?” Dean nods. He feels exhausted by the time the custodian has come and brought the desk to the back of the room. Drained. Empty. He feels like everyone’s eyes are on him as he wheels himself to his new seat.

But especially the eyes of the student in front of him, who’s turned around and stuck their hand out.

“The name’s Garth,” the young man says, shaggy hair falling into his eyes. Dean shakes his hand.

“Dean,” Dean replies.

“Dean, I like that name. Which is good, because I like you too. You like English? I love English. My brother had Mr. Turner last year and he said he’s a real hard ass, but I don’t know if I believe him. Hey, do you like computers? ‘cause my friend, Ash, it’s short for Ashley, he loves computers and he has audio video next with me, so if you have it we could all sit together…”

And that’s how Dean makes his first friend.

As it turns out, Dean does have audio video next, and, even better, there are only fourteen kids in the class, so there are plenty of desks for him and Garth to choose from while they wait for Ash to arrive.

When he does, Dean knows it’s him immediately. You can’t have a name like Ash and not live up to it.

The boy has a mullet and is wearing a sleeveless shirt with flames on it. He struts in and high fives the teacher, who seems well acquainted with his student. Ash joins Dean and Garth in the middle of the class.

“Garth, Wheels,” Ash greets them. “’sup?”

Garth launches into an explanation of who Dean is and how they met and every single shred of information that Dean him throughout the previous class. Ash nods along, taking in every word spoken solemnly and seriously.

“Well, Wheels, welcome to the club! Mi casa et su casa bromego!” Ash cheers, arms wide. Dean can’t keep the grin off of his face. The pair of them are certainly strange, but Dean has no issue with strange.

The knot of stress in his chest lessens and lessens, and by the end of the day, Dean can say that he’s very excited for his second day of school.

………..

On the second weekend of October, Ash and Garth invite Dean over to Garth’s house for a Star Wars marathon. Chuck excitedly agrees to drive him over, and upon arrival at the house, Dean’s heart sinks.

“They didn’t mention a porch,” Dean mumbles. He can see Chuck doing that thing that he does when he’s stressed, tapping his fingers frantically against the steering wheel. “It’s okay, Chuck, just take me home, I can’t expect to beat the stairs every time.” Chuck shakes his head at that.

“Oh no,” he says, stepping out of the van. He crosses the yard and heads up the stairs, knocking on the door. A woman answers, smiling brightly at him, and they exchange a few words. She invites him inside and Dean is left sitting in the van on the curb. A few moments later, Chuck comes out of the house with Ash and Garth in tow. They hop in the back of the van excitedly, Garth already chattering away, showing Dean the collection of VHS Star Wars movies he has while Ash sets the VCR on the floor.

“Whoa, wait, what are you guys doing?” Dean asks.

“They’re coming back to our place to watch the movies,” Chuck explains.

“Yeah, man, I’m really sorry about the stairs, I wasn’t even thinking!” Garth apologizes.

“No worries,” Dean says, shocked that this actually worked out, that it was such an easy fix for his friends to come to his house to watch movies.

He’s never had this before.

He’s never had friends. Never had a sleepover and never marathoned Star Wars with anyone but Sammy. Having actual friends coming to his actual house makes his heart ache.

The fact that Chuck made this happen in a matter of seconds is so foreign to Dean. Having a parent that cares enough about him to invite strange children back to his home and take over his living room and eat his snacks. Dean can’t believe that this is his life.

“There’s only one condition,” Chuck says. “You’re going to have to let Charlie join, because that girl can smell Star Wars a mile away and nothing short of sedation with keep her from watching them.” The three boys laugh as the van starts up, excitedly discussing the movies and their favourite parts on the drive over.

When they get home, Dean introduces his friends to all of his foster siblings. Ash nods along thoughtfully, soon pointing at everyone.

“You,” he says, looking at Charlie, “You’re Tully.” Charlie grins, and Dean knows that she gets the game of thrones reference. “You’re Captain Hook,” he says to Jo, which Charlie signs for him. Jo laughs soundlessly at that, wiping tears from her eyes when she’s calmed down. “You’re Daredevil,” Ash says to Kevin, “And you’re… Bond.”

“Oooh, the first female Bond, I see?” Bela says sarcastically, rolling her eyes and wheeling away from the group of them.

In the past months Bela revealed her true self; cold and angry. They’re all waiting for when she gets past this and settles in, but Dean thinks that this may just be her personality. That doesn’t make it a bad personality; just a different one. Dean’s sure that she won’t want for anything in her life with the way that she can command people around.

“Wheels, where’s the living room?” Ash asks, flipping his hair back.

“Right this way, Eighties,” Dean throws back, leading Ash and Garth past the stairs.

They set up the movies, Dean quickly apologizing to Jo that there are no subtitles on the VHS’s. Jo just waves him off.

> _Do you think I haven’t seen these ten times with Charlie? I know the lines by heart,_ < she signs.

With that, the group of them sit down, the opening credits sending chills down Dean’s spine.

In this moment, Dean forgets that he’s sad inside.

In this moment, Dean forgets to feel guilty about Sam.

In this moment, Dean is happy with his friends… and with his family.

………..

Dean’s first year back at school flies by. He can’t believe how fast the whole thing went and how much fun he had throughout.

When the end of June rolls around and he and his friends are leaving the school to two free months of summer, Dean can’t keep the grin off his face.

He’s back at Bobby’s for the summer months, but this time Ash is joining him. Bobby’s hired him to make an inventory system to input all the parts in the salvage yard. Ash will be spending the summer marching up and down rows of junk, writing down everything he sees to be catalogued.

Dean has never seen him more excited.

Garth, on the other hand, will be spending the summer at the animal shelter volunteering to take care of the dogs. The shelter has informed him that if he volunteers for two summer they’ll hire him fulltime straight out from high school.

Dean feels good about this summer. He feels like this is what he’s been waiting for his whole life, to experience what all those teenage movies describe.

He and Ash start work right after school ends, Ash hitching a ride with Dean on the bus that he, Charlie, Jo, and Kevin take. Bela has opted not to go to public school, and will instead he homeschooled by Benny. She was homeschooled before the accident and she wants to feel some kind of normalcy in this new life of hers.

Dean and Ash get dropped off at the house and race down to the auto shop. Dean wins and Ash calls him a cheater.

Dean can see Bobby waiting outside the shop and he waves, grinning. Bobby’s frown hardens and Dean’s grin slips away, turning to a look of confusion.

“Bobby, what’s up?” Dean asks, rolling to a stop just before his boss.

“Ash, here’s a pen and a pad of paper. Get out to the scrap yard,” Bobby says. Ash takes the pen and paper and leaves without another word. Bobby wordlessly gestures for Dean to follow him, heading into the shop. “You gonna tell me the meaning of this, boy?”

Bobby opens the door to the office.

“Sam?” Dean breathes.

Sam is sitting at the desk eating a peanut butter sandwich, a glass of milk next to him.

His little brother drops the sandwich, jumping up from the chair and scrambling over to his brother. Dean blinks as his brother wraps his arms around him. He slowly returns the hug, leaning forwards in his chair as far as he can.

“Sam,” Dean sobs, crushing his little brother against him. Sam lets go and steps back, looking Dean up and down. “You’ve grown,” Dean says, coughing and nonchalantly wiping at his eye.

“You’ve shrunk,” Sam shoots back, quickly throwing his hands over his mouth. Dean can’t help the burst of laughter that escapes him at that.

“Yeah, well at least I don’t look like a mop, bitch,” Dean teases.

“Jerk,” Sam replies.

“Boy, you best get explaining,” Bobby says, sitting in his desk across from the brothers. Sam sighs, shoulders drooping as he sits in the chair across from Bobby.

And so Sam explains running away from their father a week ago and making his way from Colorado to South Dakota, hitch hiking where he could and trying to find places to stay. He had gone to public libraries and found Dean on Facebook, seeing that he works at Singer’s Auto in South Dakota. After google mapping his way from the public library to the auto shop, Sam went on his way. All the way to see his brother.

“I get the sentimentality here, I really do,” Bobby says, “but I need to call someone about this. You’re technically missing, Sam, and I can’t have the cops sniffing ‘round here thinking I’ve gone and kidnapped ya.”

“No!” Sam and Dean exclaim at the same time.

“Please,” Dean says, “Sam just got here! And if you call the police they’ll send him right back to my dad. He can’t go back. Not yet. It’s been almost two years. Please, Bobby. Please.” Bobby sighs.

“Fine. You can have one day with yer brother. But you’d best be callin’ yer daddy tonight to tell him yer at,” Bobby tells them, eyeing Sam in particular. Sam’s face falls.

“But-” he starts.

“In fact,” Bobby says, “call _now_.” Sam looks to Dean and Dean lowers his head. He doesn’t want his brother to call. He wants to pretend that John relinquished his parental rights to Sam too and that Sam could come live with him at Chuck and Sonny’s. They wouldn’t need to do a thing. Dean would pay for all of him and Sam’s food and pay rent and Sam could sleep in Dean’s room with him. They could adopt that baby they wanted and nothing would change! Dean’s been taking care of Sam for his entire life, he can do it now too. But he knows it’s just a dream. He knows that the right thing is to call John.

No.

No!

The right thing isn’t to call John!

What has John ever done for Sam? What would John ever do for Sam?

Hell, John probably doesn’t even know that Sam is gone!

“Bobby, you can’t let him call our dad,” Dean blurts out. Bobby opens his mouth, Dean sure that he’s ready to yell, but Dean quickly cuts him off. “My dad would hit me, Bobby, he’d come home drunk and he’d hit me and tell me I was worthless. He blamed me for my mother’s death and when he was done using me as a punching bag he would sob and I would have to console him. Bobby, he- he… He thought… he… Please. I could take it. I could take being beaten and being thrown around and have my leg broken and having my arm scratched and explaining black eyes and I got real good at taping up broken ribs but Sam- you can’t… Please, Bobby, you can’t let Sam go back. He doesn’t deserve it, he can’t take it! It’s my job to protect him and I can protect him from dad, just please, please don’t send him back!” Dean is wailing and he doesn’t know how to stop. His voice is high and tears are spilling from his eyes and he can’t catch a breath. Bobby is pulling him forwards roughly, wrapping him in a tight hug and gently petting his hair.

“It’s okay, Dean, it’s okay. He’s not goin’ anywhere. I promise. It’s okay. It’s okay,” Bobby whispers.

………..

John Winchester cannot be located. The police have a warrant out for his arrest for child abuse. Over that summer, Chuck and Sonny got John’s parental rights fully relinquished. Sam is offered Gabriel’s old room in the house, but both he and his brother insist that they share a room.

One day when the boys come home from work they find a bunkbed in their room.

They have movie nights.

Sam invites Jess and Ruby and Dean invites Garth and Ash. Sometimes Charlie will invite her girlfriend Gilda and Bela will invite some snotty guy she knows named Gordon. He’s a douche and he’s cruel, but when he thinks no one’s looking Dean can see the way he looks at Bela, and he knows that he’s taking good care of her.

When Dean goes to work Sam goes with him, retrieving whatever he wants from the tool box to bring back to his brother. Bobby will always grudgingly have lunch made up for all three boys and tell them they better be grateful for his time and effort.

That Christmas is the first real Christmas that Dean and Sam ever have.

The New Year’s after, Chuck and Sonny have adopted a little baby girl named Eileen who was born deaf.

When she comes to the house, it feels like their family is finally complete.

That is, until Sam begs for a dog.

And it turns out Benny has a soft spot for the fluffy things.

Which is how Bones ends up sleeping on top of Dean’s legs every night.

Life is good.

Dean is happy.

He has his brother, he has his friends, and he has his family.

One day, Dean expresses to Bobby that he feels like these people that he’s only known for a handful of years mean more to him than his father ever did. He tells Bobby that he feels guilty, that he must be crazy, because they can’t be his family. Bobby shakes his head and laughs.

“Boy, yer daddy didn’t mean shit t’you. He was a terrible father. Family don’t end in blood.”

It’s that final sentence that opens Dean’s eyes to this new world.

He’s found his family. Stitched it together and pulled people in from all over. Chuck, Sonny, Benny, Jo, Charlie, Kevin, Bela, Gabriel, Castiel, Eileen, Ash, Garth, Bobby- Sam. They’re all his family.

They’re all he’ll ever need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guarantee that if you ask me to post chapters or when I'm finishing that I'll go even slower. I love to hear back from you but asking for updates or when it will be done won't help. Life is shit and I get done what I can.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


	10. Southward Bound

Dean graduates high school. He never expected that he would. He always imagined that he would drop out at sixteen and help his dad to bring in money for Sam, bring in money to stay at their shitty motel and make sure that his brother was well fed and one day, when he turned eighteen, he would take Sam far away where John could never find them.

But instead he graduates.

There weren’t enough seats for the entirety of his new family to come, but Sam, Sonny, Bobby, Chuck, and Charlie are there. Benny is at home with Kevin, Jo, and Bela. Dean wanted him to come, but Benny insisted that no babysitter could put up with Kevin for longer than an hour, and Jo was _not_ willing to watch him.

Dean rolls across the stage and gets his diploma to the cheers of his friends and family. Ash screams “Rock and fuckin’ roll!” as Dean gets the diploma, and the principle gives him a pointed look. She knows there’s nothing she can do, though, and smiles despite herself.

Dean never wanted what Gabriel called a “pimped out” wheelchair, instead keeping his simply chair that can easily be folded and put into vehicles. So at the end of Dean’s graduation, after pictures have been taken, tears and hugs all around, Dean throws himself into the back of Ash’s car, the smell of weed nearly killing him on the spot, and the chair is thrown into the trunk. Garth swings himself into the passenger seat, and Dean is squished in next to Andy and Tessa. Ash starts the car, an ungodly screaming coming from the engine. The fact that the car still started was a miracle in Dean (and Bobby’s) eyes.

“Wait!” Dean hears out his open window- open because the AC is broken and if any of them are kept closed all passengers are ensured a slow and torturous death.

Dean turns to see Charlie running across the pavement, Chuck and Sonny smiling with a wave. Charlie, a year older than Dean, chose to stay at school for a 13th year to get in extra classes to be accepted to the college program she wanted with a full ride. She retook a few of her previous classes and tacked on some helpful ones, and was successfully accepted with a full scholarship. However, she confessed to Dean late one night that she really just wasn’t ready to leave, go off on her own halfway across the country.

Charlie shoves herself through the open window, quickly shuffling onto her back and undoing her prosthetic legs, which Dean pulls into the car before they clatter to the pavement. There’s a noise of surprise from Andy and Tessa, who have never seen this magic trick of Charlie’s, and Charlie now sprawls, legless, across the three of them in the backseat, prosthetics shoved between Dean’s lifeless legs.

“You lot didn’t think you’d get away without me, did you?” Charlie beams.

“I thought you had a date with Gilda,” Dean says, shoving down Charlie’s stump, which she’s been slowly inching closer to Dean’s face. Ash puts the car in gear and it moves forwards with a sickening lurch. They’re off. Gilda also graduated that night, and from what Dean knew the two of them were to go to dinner before Gilda drove them to Ash’s party.

“We broke up last week,” Charlie says flatly, not making eye contact with Dean. She quickly adds “The distance was just going to be too much. She’s going to Washington and I’m going to California- it wasn’t fair to either of us.”

“But you guys still had the whole summer,” Garth butts in.

“No,” Charlie mutters, “she leaves for Washington tomorrow morning. She’s going to be living with her dad when she’s out there, and he wants her to come and get used to the city. Live it up or whatever. This was the least painful way to do things.”

“Charlie, you’ve gotta call her!” Tessa exclaims. Dean and Charlie both snap their heads towards her. “It’s not like you guys _want_ this to happen. Why don’t you have one last amazing night together, and go your separate ways as friends? Call her! Get her to come to the party!”

“Yeah!” Dean adds. “What do you have to lose?”

Grinning, Charlie pulls her phone out of her pocket. Dean knows she has Gilda on speed dial (Charlie is the only person Dean knows who still _uses_ speed dial) and soon enough Charlie has hung up, the smile never wavering.

“Her mom is going to drop her off. One more night!” Charlie shouts, and the whole car cheers, Ash slamming on the horn.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” he yells, fist in the air as he cranks up the music.

They arrive to Ash’s house to see that the party has already started. Ash’s parents (God help them) left for a vacation two weeks earlier, leaving the house in control of Ash’s older twin brothers. When Dean asked why they hadn’t waited until after graduation, Ash told him that this was the best gift they could have given him- the whole house to himself and two brothers over the age of 21 more than willing to buy him booze. “Plus,” Ash had added, “hot college chicks, bro!”

Ash’s parents, while not rich, were well off enough to have a sizeable house in the middle of nowhere. There are no neighbours to call the cops on them; the music is already blaring out the windows when the car pulls up the driveway. There are two other cars following, all overflowed with high school kids enticed by the promise of booze. Ash had gone around with a bucket a week before graduation, gathering “party funds” from his fellow graduates. They had all chipped in, some kids adding five bucks, some kids sliding in five twenties with a wink.

Sufficed to say, when Dean enters and sees the entire dining room table littered with alcohol bottles, he knows that Ash collected enough.

Ash and Charlie had helped to push and pull Dean up the few stairs leading to Ash’s front step, Dean too excited about the party to care about the knot of embarrassment in his gut. No one around him mentioned the chair- they all gave his high fives and pounded his back as they flowed inside.

Charlie quickly leaves their entourage when she spots Gilda- gorgeous as a princess- in the front foyer. She kisses her deeply, and the two aren’t seen for the remainder of the evening.

Garth and Ash lift a laughing Dean from his chair, raising him onto their shoulders as Andy moves his chair from the front foyer down the single step to the living room. Someone hands Dean a beer and he opens it, taking a long drink. Garth and Ash lower him from their shoulders to the couch, where Tessa throws herself across his lap, a somehow already half empty vodka bottle in her hand, now raised to her lips and being chugged.

“That’s gonna hurt in the morning,” Dean advices her.

“Who gives a fuck about the morning?” Tessa says, throwing herself forwards and kissing Dean. He pulls back. He blinks, realizing that that was the first time he had been kissed since he was twelve years old. Tessa looks from his lips to his eyes, calculating, before dropping the vodka bottle next to the couch and putting her hands on the side of Dean’s head, hands fisting in his hair as she shoves her tongue into his mouth. Dean grabs her by the waist, pulling her closer, hands skirting around the edge of her shirt. There are wolf whistles behind them, and when hey pull apart, panting, Dean thinks to himself _thank God I can’t get an erection_. But the thought brings a wave of hurt.

“Just a minute,” he says to Tessa, and she slides off him. He pulls his chair close and wheels to the bathroom, pushing people aside as he goes.

He slams the door and locks it, sitting in his chair, elbows on his knees and hands in his hair. “Buck the fuck up,” he whispers to himself, moving one hand to press over his pounding heart. “You are _not_ losing your shit here, and you are _not_ going to have a panic attack in this bathroom. Calm the fuck down.” He sits for a moment longer, taking deep breaths, before he nods to himself. “Okay. Okay.” He unlocks the door and wheels out.

“Took you fucking long enou-” the girl stops, growing bright red as Dean wheels past her. _The chair definitely has its perks_ , he thinks with a grin as he goes back to the couch. Tessa is practically fucking Andy on the couch. He sighs. So much for bucking up. He wheels around, spotting Garth and Ash across the room, Ash shirtless (why?) and Garth with his tie wrapped around his head, a heated game of beer pong being cheered on by unfamiliar college kids.

“Lose your date?” an unfamiliar voice behind him says. Dean turns his chair, finding a girl leaning against one of the cabinets in the looking room, eyes sparking and a smile on her lips.

“What?” Dean says dumbly. The girl nods towards the couch where Tessa and Andy are, dark brown curls, bouncing on her head. “Oh. No. She’s a friend.”

“Huh. She definitely seemed friendly earlier,” the girl says with a wink. She sticks her hand out. “Cassie Robinson.” Dean accepts her hand.

“Dean Winchester,” he returns. “You don’t look familiar, I’m guessing you didn’t graduate tonight.” Cassie laughs, moving herself into a sitting position, keeping one hand on her left leg, leaving it straight out as she settles onto the floor. She shakes her head.

“No, I go to school with the Bozo Twins,” she says. She notices Dean’s eyes on her leg- he hurriedly looks away. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” He grins.

“Deal,” he says, moving his chair out of the way before he catches a drunk schoolmate on his lap. “Gunshot to my back a few years back. Paralyzed between the T10 and T11 region.”

She nods.

“Early stage MS. I’ve been in a flare-up these past few days, but I refused to bring my cane to a party with the Bozo Twins… I’m regretting it now,” she laughs.

“No one notices the chair anymore. You shouldn’t be afraid of the things that help you,” Dean says matter-of-factly. Cassie’s grin broadened.

“You’re a smart guy, you know that?” she says.

“Well I graduated high school, so I’m ahead of half of the population of South Dakota,” Dean jokes, a shiver going down his spine at the laugh that leaves Cassie’s mouth.

“So that girl over there- not your date or girlfriend or fuckbuddy or whatever?” Cassie asks.

“No!” Dean says, too quickly. He clears his throat. “I mean, no, we’re just friends. She’s just _really_ drunk and, you know, I left, because I’m not- about that.”

“About sex or about drunk sex?” Cassie questions, tilting her head. Dean coughs, cheeks reddening.

“Drunk sex. It’s just- you know- all the consent issues- and the- it’s- I just find it- unethical. Is all,” Dean stammers out. Cassie nods.

“Very sage words, Dean Winchester.” They sit in what Dean feels is a horribly awkward silence for a few minutes, the party raging around them.

“Don’t you want to go hang out with your friends?” Dean blurts.

“Don’t you want to go be with yours?” Cassie says, gesturing to the beer pong table where Garth is vomiting on the floor, Ash howling with laughter. Dean makes a disgusted face.

“Eugh. No thank you,” he says. Cassie nods at the two men who have started dry humping alongside Tessa and Andy.

“My entourage,” she says. Dean laughs.

“It seems we’re stuck together,” he says.

“It seems we are,” Cassie says, smiling softly.

The two spend an hour there, Cassie on the floor, switching her position every few moments, Dean with his wheels braked, ready for impact from drunken idiots. They talk back and forth about interests, what Dean will be going to college for- a two year mechanics course- and what Cassie plans to do upon her graduation in two years.

At the end of their conversation, Dean learns that in September Cassie will be transferring colleges, going to a school out of state to continue with her history degree before going further south for a librarian’s degree. She’ll be leaving next week to start her job in Wisconsin and to move into her new apartment. Dean’s heart falls. He’ll be going to a community college and after getting his degree will be apprenticing with Bobby. This girl will be leaving soon, for Dean to never see again.

“Why the long face?” Cassie asks.

“Huh? No, not a long face, just- you’re super cool, but you’re leaving so soon. I was hoping to maybe-” Cassie silences him with a kiss. It’s brief and chaste, and Dean’s cheeks are aflame, sweat popping at the back of his neck. “I- uh, yeah, that’s, uh-”

“I’m not looking for a relationship, Dean. I’m trying to focus on my schooling and life is crazy and I don’t need to be worrying about someone else fulltime- and I have an inkling you feel the same way.” Dean nods, not trusting his voice. Cassie leans forwards, lips nearly touching Dean’s ear. “But I don’t see why we can’t have some fun tonight.” There’s a clenching feeling in Dean’s lower abdomen. He can’t get an erection. He knows that. God, does he know, and God did he try. But this feeling is so tight and big and he’s starting to gasp a little- dammit Winchester-

“There’s a bedroom on the lower level here. The Bozo Twins let me sleep there one time. Should we go check it out?” Cassie murmurs.

“Yes- yeah- for sure- I mean- that’s- great. But. Uh. You know I can’t- uh, you know, I can’t-”

“There are ways to have sex without a penis, Dean,” she says, and holy _fuck_ , he is ready to fucking _go_.

The bedroom is one step up from the living room. Dean’s heart falls.

“Do you trust me?” Cassie asks. Dean nods, licking his lips. She turns his chair and _heaves_ , and he’s up a level. “My high school boyfriend was in a wheelchair,” Cassie says as Dean turns himself around. “T5 injury.”

“Oh,” is all Dean can seem to say. Two of Dean’s fellow graduates stumble out of the bedroom, giggling and clinging to each other. Dean recognizes one of them as Gordon Walker, Bella’s ex-boyfriend. He glances at Cassie and gives Dean a wink before walking away with who looked like Abbadon Mills.

Dean’s hands are shaking as Cassie leads the way into the bedroom. Dean wheels himself in and she closes the door behind them, locking it. She flops onto the bed and Dean locks his wheels, shifting himself from his chair to the bed. He clasps his hands together, not sure what he’s okay to do, what he’s okay not to do. Cassie laughs.

“You look so innocent,” she giggles. Dean smiles nervously. Cassie swings into Dean’s lap, placing her lips on his neck.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Dean breathes, a rush coming up the back of his neck. He lets out a moan, eyes slamming shut. He moves his hands to her hair, pulling her head up to meet her lips. He runs his hands down her body, cupping her breath, one hand on her hip. She slides her hands up his torso.

“Cas-” he breathes, and stops, hands falling to his side.

“Dean? You okay?” she says, sitting back on his lap, a concerned look on her face. Dean blinks rapidly, eyes lowered and searching the nothingness in front of him.

“Yeah, I- I just think. I don’t think I’m ready for this,” he says honestly, meeting her eyes. She smiles at him.

“I totally understand,” she says, leaning forwards and placing a kiss on his cheek.

“You’re- amazing. So amazing. It’s just- I’m just-”

“You don’t need to explain- if anyone understands, it’s me,” she says. “My first time I wasn’t ready, and I’ve regretted it since. Even if this is just your first time since the accident- it should be with someone special.” Dean nods.

“You’re right,” he whispers. She slides off him, standing up by the bed.

“Come on,” she says, holding her hand out. “Let’s get rip-roaring drunk and regret our decisions in the morning.” Dean accepts the hand with a grin, pulling himself upright. He moves himself into the chair, and Cassie helps him back into what he’s started calling The Drunkard Room. Dean can hear Ash outside, screaming cannonball, followed by a splash.

Cassie hands him a shot of God only knows what, and they both slam them down with equal sounds of disgust.

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna stick to beer,” she says, reaching onto the table and passing him a can. He laughs and accepts it, cracking it open. He makes eye contact with Garth, his friend pointing two of his fingers from his own eyes to Dean’s, and _dances_ across the room. Not cool, graceful, even mediocre dancing- he chicken-having-a-seizure-on-methamphetamines dances over to Dean. Cassie lets loose a burst of laughter, snorting loudly as Garth raises his arms above his head, swinging his hips wildly.

Dean quickly pulls out his phone, grinning as he catches most of it.

“You’re gonna regret that tomorrow,” he calls to Garth.

“Oh Dean. Deandeandeandeandean. I am regretting it _right now_ ,” his friend grins, now starting the macarena.

And that’s how Dean spends the rest of his graduation night. With a girl he’s known for two hours, a guy he considers his best friend, and a smile on his face.

………..

In Dean’s last weeks of high school, he made a very big decision. He confessed to Sonny that he wanted the colostomy surgery that had been offered to him four years ago. Sick of sitting on the toilet for hours a day, oft times with no luck, he wanted to feel free, to have some semblance of his old life and his own freedom.

The surgery is on July 3rd. Dean’s school won’t cover the cost of the surgery, and he cries when Chuck tells him it’s no problem for him and Sonny to cover it- they were planning on supporting Dean for as long as he needed anyway.

Dean spends three days in the hospital after his surgery, and by August he can change his colostomy bag in under a minute. He breathes easier knowing that college will see him as a freer man.

………..

After two years at college and one year of apprenticeship, Dean sees Sam graduate high school. His brother has been offered a full ride to Stanford. For the last three years Dean has been staying with Sonny and Chuck, living in the room with Sam until Sam is old enough to leave. Dean talked about fostering Sam himself, but Benny talked him out of it, insisting that he didn’t need that kind of weight on his shoulders. In the end, Dean is glad he listened. He enjoyed his years at college with total freedom, knowing that Sam was safe with Chuck and Sonny whenever Dean wasn’t around.

Over the years he watched Charlie and Jo leave, Kevin being the only child remaining from his first day at the house. Chuck and Sonny have two new wards when Sam graduates. Little Eileen has been adopted by the two, and they have welcomed Becky and Alfie to the household. Becky, a girl Sam’s age with cerebral palsy, had been bouncing from foster home to foster home when Chuck got a call about her a year ago. She was welcomed with open arms. Well- except Sam’s arms. The girl is rather obsessed with him, if Dean’s being honest. Sam tries to avoid her as much as possible, and Dean tries to confine them to the same room at the same rate.

Alfie, a toddler, has Pfeiffer syndrome and what seems to be a form of autism. Chuck and Sonny aren’t sure if that’s what it is yet, but they love the boy regardless, giving all the love and attention in the world.

Dean will be sad to leave them.

He and Sam are backing up to move to California. After Sam was accepted with a full ride, Dean wheeled himself down to Bobby’s and told him he had seven months to squeeze in another year of apprenticeship. Bobby took it in stride.

And now, as Sam walks across that stage, tall and proud and floppy-haired, Dean wipes a tear from his eye, a feeling of warmth and comfort filling him. Despite their father and the shooting and all the woes of their life, Sam has graduated. Sammy turned out just fine. That’s all Dean ever wanted. Was for Sammy to grow up into a person that was loved and cared for.

Dean spends the rest of the summer working with Bobby, enjoying his last couple of months at the house. Sam works at a law firm filing papers and comes home grinning and babbling on in lawyer mumbo jumbo.

Bela leaves as soon as she graduates alongside Sam. She gives her caretakers a hug, Dean a wink, and she’s gone. Dean doesn’t know if he’ll ever see her again. He feels indifferent to it, but wishes her the best. Dean has been visiting the hospital with Chuck over the summer, talking with a young boy who was in an accident similar to his own. The boy, already in the foster system, was shot in the back in a hunting accident. He woke up in the hospital just like Dean- scared and alone. The boy, named Ed, woke up a quadriplegic. He’s eight years old.

Dean spends every spare moment with him. He laughs and plays and reads to him. He goes to physical therapy with him when he can. Ed’s entire life has changed, and watching struggle makes Dean realize that this was him. A short number of years ago, he was the boy in the hospital bed, he was the angry, cruel kid who hated the world. And as he watches Ed struggle, he realizes that with Sonny and Chuck, he can grow up to be happy.

At the end of August, Dean and Sam leave for California. Ed will be moving into the house in September, and Chuck and Sonny have decided that he will be the last child they foster for a time. Between the constant needs of Ed and Alfie and Becky, they’re hiring on a new caretaker, and have decided that having another child come wouldn’t be fair to the rest.

It’s a tearful goodbye between them all. Sam, towering over everyone in the room, gets wrapped in numerous bear hugs. Dean is nearly lifted from his chair by Benny. Bones won’t stop barking and Kevin can’t stop crying, insisting that Dean and Sam can just _stay_ , can just live here with them forever. Dean hugs him the longest.

There’s a rumbling from outside.

Dean opens the door to find a sleek black Impala sitting outside of the house. Bobby steps out of it.

“You didn’t think I’d let ya leave without a parting gift, did’ya?” Bobby asks. Dean rolls forwards, nearly colliding with Bobby’s legs. The man bends down, wrapping the man who has become his surrogate son in his arms.

“It’s beautiful, Bobby,” Dean says, voice muffled by Bobby’s shirt. Hot tears are spilling over his lids with no sign of stopping.

“I… I love you, boy. I hope you know that,” Bobby says gruffly, giving Dean a final squeeze before stepping back and wiping at his eyes. “Now, get your lazy good for nothing brother to load the trunk with all yer shit,” Bobby yells, Sam rolling his eyes, “and hop into the driver’s seat.” Dean’s eyes light up.

“The driver’s seat?” he says.

“You didn’t think I’d give ya this beauty just to look at, did ya?” Bobby says, stepping aside and gesturing at the car. “Now, it’s not like van, so you’ll need someone ta load up the chair in the trunk. But if you adjust the seat, it’s all hand controls.” Dean heaves himself from his chair to the car, feeling the smooth leather of the wheel.

“She’s beautiful, Bobby,” Dean whispers. “Thank you.”

After another round of goodbyes- and a reveal that Sam and Dean never actually had plane tickets, but Chuck and Sonny had in fact been in on the secret Impala- Dean and Sam are off, over a thousand miles of road and California on their horizon.

………..

When Sam opens the glovebox of the Impala, he finds an envelope inside. Opening it, he sees Visa gift cards amounting to just over $2000. A note in the envelope reads:

_For gas, food, and lodgings. Better spent than on plane tickets._

_We love you._

_Come home soon._

_-Chuck, Sonny, and Benny_

Dean has to pull the car over, unable to control the tears that run down his face and the sobs that leave his chest.

“God, I’m such a little bitch,” he says, wiping angrily at his face. Sam is wiping his own eyes.

“No,” Sam says. “You’re finally a human being.” Dean laughs, punching his brother in the shoulder.

………..

Sam lives in residence first year.

Dean, already having secured a job before leaving for the coast, rents a small two-bedroom apartment, anticipating Sam’s arrival after his first two semesters.

When he rolls into work, he’s greeted by his new coworkers as if there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Dean’s even starting to feel that he’s perfectly ordinary. It’s a good feeling.

………..

Dean is willing to admit that he’s addicted to In ‘n’ Out Burger. He’s had to stop himself from going everyday on his break, limiting his visits to once a week. Every Tuesday. On the dot.

All the staff know his name and order by heart.

He knows when they hire new people, and it’s become tradition for first days to be Tuesdays so they can learn Dean’s order.

One Tuesday Dean rolls in, about to make his usual greeting, when his mouth snaps shut.

Castiel is sitting at a table in the middle of the restaurant.

There’s a woman next to him, long brown hair falling back over his shoulders as she laughs. He can see Castiel’s hands moving- sign language. Dean’s hands are still on his wheels. He can’t look away. The woman catches his eye and frowns, nodding her head to the counter. Dean blinks stupidly, still staring. The woman stands, placing a hand on Castiel’s shoulder before walking over to Dean.

“Can I help you?” she says snidely.

“Um,” Dean says dumbly. She shakes her head, disgust on her face.

“Never seen a man sign before? What are you, some kind of disabled ableist? Stop staring at him!” the woman tells him, pointing a finger at Dean’s chest.

“Is that… is that Castiel Novak?” Dean breathes, looking past her. The woman blinks.

“Yes,” she says. Dean wheels past her, ignoring her protest. He wheels himself next to Castiel, who doesn’t look at him.

“Cas,” Dean says. Those eyes are on him immediately. Those blue, blue eyes. “Cas, it’s Dean. From the foster home. It’s been- god, it’s been almost a decade now, hasn’t it?” Castiel’s eyes are wide as he takes in Dean’s words. He can feel the woman hovering behind him, but in this moment, in this span of time, it’s just Dean and Castiel. There’s no one else there.

> _I remember,_ < he signs. Dean’s heart is beating a mile a minute.

“I- you- how? How long have you lived out here?” Dean stammers. Castiel looks back at the woman. Dean sees her nod out of the corner of his eye.

> _My brother moved us out here three years ago. Gabriel feels better in the heat._ <

Dean watches him sign intently, trying to bring back all the knowledge of it he has from when he was living with Charlie and Jo.

“Is- Gabriel, is he here?” Dean asks, looking around. Castiel shakes his head. “I don’t know what to say.” Castiel smiles at him.

> _Thank you, Dean. For what you did for me when we were children. Without you, I wouldn’t be where I am now._ <

“Clarence, we need to get going if you don’t want to be late,” the woman says.

> _Meg, this is Dean,_ < Castiel signs. He smiles. > _An old friend_. <

………..

Dean and Castiel have lunch at In ‘n’ Out Burger every Tuesday.

Meg joins them each time. Dean learns that she’s Castiel’s caretaker. He’s improved greatly, even has a college degree and a job as an assistant editor for novels. Dean learns that despite Castiel’s advancements and success in life, he still struggles daily, unable to take social cues from those not closest to him, and unable to interact more than a few words with strangers, if at all. He has difficulties with spatial recognition, and so he isn’t allowed to drive.

Meg goes with Castiel everywhere, talking for him and driving for him and keeping him safe. She’s been with him for three years, since Michael moved Castiel and Gabriel out to California. She’s rough around the edges, and Dean really isn’t fond of her, but she’s good to Castiel, and in the end that’s all that matters.

But Dean can see that look in her eyes. He knows the look, because it’s the same one that comes over him when he sees Castiel, when he’s greeted by a smile, or when he gets a quiet laugh out of his friend. It’s the look of wanting, the look that desires more than there already is. Dean knows that she loves him in the same way that he does, and Dean knows that, like him, she can never act on it. He thinks that it’s a mutual understanding between them on those Tuesdays- two people hopelessly in love with a man who can never love them back.

Dean spends a year’s worth of Tuesdays with Castiel. He tries to see the man at other times, but Castiel always begins to shut down, eyes growing wide, legs thumping, hands clasped together, and Dean stops, never pressing further.

It’s on a Tuesday in May, just after Sam has finished his second year at Stanford, that Castiel asks Dean if he would like to take him to dinner. Meg doesn’t look surprised, but Dean nearly chokes on his food.

“What?” Dean coughs into his napkin. Castiel looks at Meg, and with what appears to be great difficulty, Meg explains.

“Castiel wants you to pick him up on Friday night at his house and take him out to dinner. He knows that you have a very nice car, and that you have a clean driving record, and feels that you would do a fine job of escorting him to a meal. He wants you to come back to his home after so he can show you around,” Meg finishes. Castiel is grinning and nodding along. Dean’s mouth is so very, very dry. He looks at his friend.

“Of course,” he coughs out. “I’d love to.” Castiel slides him a piece of paper with an address and a time. Dean’s palms are sweaty as he puts it in his pocket. “Friday at 7pm. I’ll see you then.”

………..

The Impala rolls up to a two-story red brick home on Friday evening. Castiel is outside on the porch, Gabriel next to him. Gabe’s arm is immediately in the air, waving furiously. Dean waves back with a grin.

With his own adjustments to the car, Dean had created a holding spot on the front bench of the Impala to hold his wheelchair, leading into the back and separating the two seats there. He opens the door, pulling the wheelchair out, and hoists himself into it. Dean wheels around the back of the sleek black vehicle, going up a ramp to the front porch, unable to remove the grin from his face.

“Gabe!” Dean says, grabbing the other man by the hand in greeting before he’s pulled into an awkward and very tight hug.

“Dean-o!” Gabriel exclaims, releasing him. “Man, I never thought I’d see you again, let alone taking my little bro out on a _date_.” Gabriel wags his eyebrows and heat rises to Dean’s cheeks at the same time Castiel smacks his brother, rolling his eyes.

A familiar man appears in the doorway- Michael. Older, more mature, he smiles at Dean.

“I haven’t seen you in a few years,” Michael says warmly.

“Michael,” Dean says, sticking out his hand. Michael accepts it, shaking firmly.

“Castiel hasn’t stopped talking about you for, what, a year now, Gabe?”

> _You know I can hear you, right?_ < Castiel signs, and Dean laughs.

“Oh yeah, he’s been making googly eyes like _crazy_ ,” Castiel sighs, rolling his eyes skyward. Dean smiles at this site- the brothers seem united, happy. Such a change from when Dean had last seen them. For years he wished that Castiel would have never left, that Dean could stay by his side forever. But now, seeing how far he’s come, seeing how far his family has come, Dean wouldn’t change a thing.

………..

Castiel insists they go to Olive Garden- Dean, having received Gabriel’s number from Meg on the most recent Tuesday, had been warned in advance that Castiel only feels comfortable eating at two restaurants- In ‘n’ Out Burger, as Dean knows, and Olive Garden.

Dean could give less of a shit. All he wants is to spend time with Castiel- whether Castiel views their outing as a chance at romance, or two friends enjoying spaghetti together.

Their seat has been received prior to arriving- it turns out that Castiel eats here once a month at the same table with a standing reservation, who he goes with varying by the visit. He also learned that Castiel only used to go to In ‘n’ Out Burger once a month too. That is, until Dean showed up.

The two talk back and forth, laughing at this and that. Dean’s chest is tight as the evening goes on, though. As the meal grows to a close, he can’t help but wonder what this is. Is this him having dinner with his best friend, or is this him finally having the date he’s wanted with the man he’s desired since childhood?

When they head back out to the Impala, Castiel in the lead, Dean comes to an abrupt stop behind the other man. Castiel hesitates, hands gripped together, fingers fidgeting endlessly. He worries at his bottom lip.

“Everything okay, Cas?” Dean asks. Castiel nods, not looking at his friend. Before Dean can say another word, Castiel has ducked forwards, placing a peck on Dean’s cheek. Dean’s face goes bright red, a goofy grin crossing his lips.

> _Is that okay?_ > Castiel signs. Dean nods.

“That’s just fine, Cas,” he says.

………..

The two have stopped going to In ‘n’ Out Burger every Tuesday. Instead, they meet for lunch at a healthier alternative, as per Sam’s pestering. On Friday nights they go to Olive Garden, and on Saturdays Dean spends the afternoon watching movies with Gabriel and Castiel. At the end of every meeting, Castiel kisses Dean’s cheek.

Months go by, and Dean is happy in his little routine. Soon enough, Sam and Castiel are introduced. Sundays become the day that Castiel come to watch movies at Dean and Sam’s apartment, and soon enough Sundays become a walk in the park with Bones and Sam. Later is moves to a trip to the grocery store, a movie in the theatre- after a year of these slightly shifting routines, Dean and Castiel go to a restaurant called Herm’s on Friday night instead of Olive Garden.

Soon after that, Meg no longer accompanies Dean and Castiel to their lunches, Dean instead picking Castiel up at work. He drives Castiel to work and picks Castiel up from work. Castiel works longer hours than Dean, determined to get as much work done in a day as he can, leaving Dean plenty of time to pick him up.

……….

Sam graduates Stanford with a full ride in law school.

One week after the graduation, Dean asks Castiel if he wants to move in with them.

Castiel signs yes.

……….

The three move into a house, Dean and Castiel with their rooms right next to each other on the main floor, Sam having the whole basement to himself. Soon Sam’s girlfriend Jess has moved in with them.

Dean is happy.

………..

Their story isn’t one of fierce passion. Of late night kisses, of undying love, of a connection so strong it moves the world.

Their story is life.

Their story is the tale of two boys who grow up to love on another, however they can. Their story is of brief kisses on the lips, of long sponge baths, of arms wrapped around one another on the couch, a Clint Eastwood movie playing softly in the background. Their story is love hidden behind necessity and care.

They love deeply and they love truly.

They love each other until the last of their breaths.

THE END


End file.
